Apostates of Amaranthine
by Amhran Comhrac
Summary: With Amaranthine safe, Maggie Amell hopes she can finally focus on rebuilding the order and her home. Obviously nothing in her life could ever be that simple. Postgame, with lots of OCs. Spoilers for Origins/Awakening
1. Begging our rich relations for aid

_A/N: This is a direct continuation of my previous story featuring Maggie Amell and Anders, Never Boring. It picks up right where the last one ends off, after the events of Awakening._

_The Maker smiles on those who review!_

_Forgot to add, Bioware owns the universe, I just visit on occasion.  
_

* * *

Someone was knocking on the door. I could see light streaming past the curtains from outside. It was midafternoon, but I fought against the idea of getting up. _Maybe if I ignore them they'll go away._

The Mother was dead, the Architect was dead, and the city saved, hadn't I earned the right to sleep in a bit? Unfortunately my near-perfect record of everyone returning home at the end of the day had been destroyed. I had one warden dead (_although technically he was never really_ _alive_, I had to remind myself) and, another presumed missing in action. Nathaniel, my second in command, was in all likelihood pacing the floors somewhere finding new and exciting ways to blame himself for both of those things even though I'd told him the fault was mine for helping the city instead of rushing back to aid him. Everyone needed a hobby, though, and his seemed to be brooding, no matter what I told him.

The knocking continued. I pulled the blankets over my head, snuggling closer to Anders who mumbled something in his sleep, tossing an arm over me. _I just saved the world. Again. Let me REST! _I thought, grumpily.

Vigil's Keep, the first place I'd actually been able to think of as _home,_ was in ruins. Thanks to the quick thinking of Nathaniel, the darkspawn never made it upstairs. However, the first floor, once full of large exposed wood beams, questionable art featuring the former occupants with mabari dogs, and bookshelves, had undergone a darkspawn-style renovation. I must admit, even though I'd wanted to redecorate, I'm not a big fan of the "charred apocalypse" theme they went with. Sure, the new open floor plan was nice, and I could see how it would lend itself well to entertaining, but I would have preferred something a bit more traditional, maybe with griffins. Instead I just worried the upper levels of the building would collapse onto everything and we'd roll out of bed to find ourselves in the remains of the kitchen. Or completely crushed under the weight of the third and fourth floors. That was a less fun possibility.

The knocking could now be described as a _banging_, and it was accompanied by someone calling my name, loudly. No, not just my name, my _full _name and _title, _as well as calling for Anders. I tossed aside the blankets and climbed out from under his arm. Whoever it was, they clearly didn't plan to let me sleep. Anders shifted beside me, making no move to get up. Instead he pulled the blankets over his head while grumbling. "Thanks," I muttered at him, swinging my legs out of bed.

Calling for them to give me a moment, I tossed on the nearest clean robe I could find, nearly tripping over Ser Pounce-a-lot in the process.

"Varel!" I exclaimed after finding the seneschal on the opposite side of my door. "I'd heard you were in the infirmary!"

"I was, they finally let me out, after a week of me complaining I had work to do."

"A _week_? Didn't I just see you four days ago?"

He looked at me. "Maggie, do you know what day it is?" I shook my head. He walked into my office, gesturing to the small desk calendar. "You were gone for almost a week, and you've been asleep for two days." Maker's breath, we must have fought nonstop for _days_. No wonder I'd slept so long.

"Huh," I said, not having a proper response. "So, what's going on, then?" I became suddenly nervous. "Not more darkspawn already, is it?"

"You have visitors," he answered vaguely. I raised an eyebrow and Varel lifted his hands in a gesture of apology. "The nobles, I'm sorry. They want to meet with you. Some others as well."

"Maker's breath, I think I would have preferred the darkspawn." He laughed at that. "Go get the others, if I have to suffer I'm not doing it alone." I once again thought about writing to Alistair begging him to pick a new Arl and just let us have the Keep. After sending Varel to make sure Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Oghren were up and ready, I went to drag Anders out of bed.

"I know, I heard," he muttered, already awake and dressing as I walked back into the bedroom from my office. That was what we both called it. 'The' bedroom. Neither of us could bring ourselves to say 'our' bedroom, and since everything he owned was in there calling it 'my' room sounded just as bizarre.

We gathered in the main hall so the nobles could parade around, trying to one up each other with their extravagant and unnecessary gifts of thanks. _What am I ever going to do with twenty yards of blue silk,_ I wondered, thanking the giver and passing it to Varel. It was joined by a large wooden statue of a mabari, a small golden statue of a mabari, a _painting _of a mabari, and then several very old leather bound books which were, thankfully, about local history and not mabari. _This,_ I thought, looking over the items, _is why Orlais makes fun of our dogs. _I managed to smile and thank everyone profusely, wishing they could have passed along some weapons and armor instead. Or a real mabari, for that matter. I suspect my idea of starting a small kennel would have to be put off while everything was fixed.

Even the Revered Mother came to grunt a perfunctory thank you at me before talking the ear off some Bann or another who looked like she wanted nothing more than to run away. _At least I'm not the only one who hates her_, I thought, watching the nobles all take turns squirming out of conversation. I also caught her arm waving in my direction more than once, it was clear that our saving the city didn't make up for my audacity at having been born a mage. Hopefully she hadn't discovered what Anders and I did in her bed when we spent the night in the Chantry waiting for the darkspawn forces to make their appearance.

Next came messengers from the closest neighboring Arlings pledging their assistance in rebuilding our home. Most handed me bags of gold sovereigns, but Teyrn Couseland had one-upped them all, sending a small army of workmen as well, fresh from having repaired his own castle. Varel immediately sent them to work on shoring up the ceiling so it didn't collapse because of the damage below. No actual repairs yet, but this would at least make sure the Keep was livable while they went on.

Once everyone had left the six of us went upstairs to the makeshift dining room, in desperate need of food. Sitting on boxes and crates around an enormous ancient table, we caught each other up on the previous week over a meal of bread, cheese, and dried meat. After we described the siege on Amaranthine I realized something. "Where was Bann Esmerelle today? Her guards knew about the tunnels under the city and ignored it, even after I told them to seal them up. That was how the darkspawn surprised everyone. She needs to know."

Varel cleared his throat. "Esmerelle was found dead yesterday, by her own hand." I gasped, and he went on. "We suspected she was involved in the conspiracy against you, I think she was worried we were close to finding the truth."

"Well, good riddance in that case" I replied. Nathaniel looked slightly shocked but Oghren roared with laughter.

I then told Varel and Nathaniel of the Architect's offer. Varel was horrified by it, and glad we killed the monster, but Nathaniel seemed more conflicted. "You don't think a little blood would be worth it to end the blights?" he asked.

"I don't think it _would_ end the blights. We'd just have a lot of smaller, more frequent blights to cope with. He made the Mother and all her followers, too." I shrugged. "I just didn't trust him. I'm a Grey Warden, how could I trust the word of a darkspawn?"

After we described the fight with the Mother, Nathaniel told us about the attack on the Keep. I winced again for leaving him to deal with it alone. I should have left Sigrun or Oghren with him as well, giving us each two trusted Wardens. I justified that Anders would always go with me since the Keep had an infirmary and I needed a healer when we traveled. In all honesty, I wouldn't have _made_ it to the Architect if I'd needed to rely on health poultices alone. The ogre that threw me against a wall in the tunnels under the city caused too much damage. It was sound reasoning, and had absolutely nothing to do with anything else. Or so I told myself.

Once lunch was finished, Nathaniel rose to his feet. "I'm going to go check up on my sister," he announced.

"You need to write me a report, Nathaniel," I prodded him. He groaned.

"You can't be serious."

"I wasn't here; I have to let the First Warden know what happened."

"Maker's breath, fine."

"Two copies."

"Didn't you once have Oghren kill someone because he caused too much paperwork?"

"I had Oghren kill him because he was a bandit. That bandits also happened to cause far too much paperwork for me was incidental." Anders and Oghren both laughed at that, I ignored them. "Besides, do you think Weisshaupt will return it once they're done? A copy for them, and a copy for Ferelden. Come on, I have to do the same thing." He sighed and left.

Varel turned on me next, I could recognize his 'boring business' face from a mile away. "Maggie, we need to discuss the repairs."

"I think we should make them," I said. "Why wouldn't I?" What was to discuss, after all? Anders snorted.

He sighed. "We don't have enough money to fix everything. You need to decide what comes first, and we need to find more money."

"How much do we have? Can we do most? Or do everything at least partially?" He shook his head.

"The main hall alone would empty the treasury," he explained.

"Andraste's tits," I cursed.

"Brewery first!" Oghren exclaimed. The fire had wiped out our entire supply of ale.

"No," I said, looking at him. "Anything that might make the Keep unstable or unsafe to live in comes first, even if it's only given a temporary fix, and then the kitchen. We need recruits, recruits will need food. Damn it, _I'll_ need food. I don't want to eat like we're on the road all the time." Everyone seemed to agree with that assessment. "After that Master Wade's workshop, we'll need weapons as well." He nodded. "I'll hit up the king and Weisshaupt for money, maybe they can help."

"If they could that would be most helpful. Messages have been pouring in with promises of aid, but so far none have followed through beyond what you saw this morning." That made sense. Messages could be sent with anyone, a trusted servant had to hand-deliver gold.

"After I hear from Denerim, I'll start making plans for recruitment trips. West, to Orzammar, first. They'll welcome us to the city, and anyone we get there won't need much by way of training." Sigrun and Oghren nodded in agreement.

"What about the Circle, isn't that on the way? Mages are needed, of course, but templars would also make fine warriors." I winced. I didn't _want_ to go back in there, for completely selfish reasons, but I also suspected they wouldn't particularly welcome me. I _did_ save the circle from a crazed blood mage, but deep down I suspect the templars would have been happier calling for the rite of annulment and killing everyone within, guilty and innocent alike. Particularly if I could have been locked up inside before the rite began. Saving the circle didn't quite balance out helping a blood mage escape. Or later becoming one yourself, for that matter- although I don't think they knew about that yet.

"I think sending Nathaniel to recruit there might be wiser, they won't be happy to see me or Anders. And no templars. Ever."

"Maggie," Oghren groaned, "leave your grudges in the past, templars are strong fighters."

"As well as addicted to lyrium, and highly unlikely to take orders from a mage. Plus, they'd turn on me in the middle of battle if I ever resort to some of my less _approved_ magics."

Either they agreed or Oghren and Varel just decided not to push the issue for now. I excused myself to get to work.

I had finished a letter to Alistair first, letting him know I was alive and well, and what had happened. I had no idea what the state of the Ferelden treasury was so soon after the blight, but I did detail the level of damage to the keep and our complete inability to afford the work ourselves, or even throw a proper victory celebration. If he had the money he would get the hint.

My report to the First Warden was far more detailed, involving me occasionally prodding Anders, Sigrun, and Oghren for details I didn't remember exactly. I also made a point of stressing how many lives at the Keep were saved because of Nathaniel, and flat out begged for any assistance they could provide. _I have no shame_, I thought, adding the line 'I can barely afford to travel and find recruits, much less provide them with proper arms, armor, or robes!' Each nation's Wardens should be supported by tithes from their own nation, but I thought perhaps our situation was a little more extreme. Master Wade couldn't make us so much as a gauntlet or dagger until his workshop was repaired.

Setting it aside to wait for Nathaniel's portion I sighed. It was doubtful the First Warden would even bother replying to me. Whatever Weisshaupt prioritized, I knew Ferelden was far from the top of that list. Normally I wouldn't demand, or even welcome, special treatment, but for once I wished the First Warden would remember which of us actually fought the archdemon. Being treated as a political experiment in a nation they openly thought of as a barbaric backwater wasn't endearing the order's leadership to me.

On the spur of the moment I also wrote to the six other Warden Commanders in Thedas explaining our circumstances and dire need of equipment and supplies for new recruits. It was an act of desperation. The closest neighboring Warden Commander would be in Orlais. If word got out that I went to them for help the phrase "political nightmare" wouldn't begin to describe it. I didn't much care, the occupation was over a couple years before I'd even been born, but most of the nation still carried a grudge.

Donations had continued to pour in from throughout Ferelden over the next few days and weeks, but I hadn't heard a peep out of Alistair or the First Warden. The latter was understandable, a letter to the Anderfels could take a month or more to arrive. The former, however, made no sense. He would have had my letter within days. His silence was disturbing. Even if I wasn't his _friend_, I was still the nominal ruler of the Arling. It seemed as though the king would at least acknowledge when a substantial chunk of his kingdom came under attack. Was he brushing it off _because_ we were friends, and he knew I wouldn't cause a fuss if he didn't fawn over me like some other noble? Although that made me less unhappy, I was still annoyed. The donations had been enough to start repairs on Master Wade's workshop and our kitchen but not much else.

To my surprise Orlais was the first to respond; less than a month had passed before a wagon arrived at the Keep. It was heavily burdened with anything a newly recruited Warden would require, all bearing the griffin insignia, I had to resist the urge to dance around and unpack every item. Our armory had been destroyed in the attack, along with almost everything in it. With this I could actually start looking for recruits. I all but bounced into the Keep, one less worry on my mind.

Anders was curled up on the rug by the fire in my office, reading a book. "You wouldn't believe how much stuff just arrived from Orlais. Warden inscribed armor, weapons, mage's robes, tents, everything. It's amazing!"

"So are we the poor country cousins begging our rich relations for aid?" He chuckled at this, but I winced, stopping halfway through pulling off my boots. The tale was an old one, but it felt rather accurate from where I stood. "Don't take it so seriously, I was only kidding," Anders protested, seeing my reaction. "We're _Ferelden_, obviously we're the poor country cousins." I kicked off my boots with a sigh and walked barefoot across the carpet, punching Anders lightly in the shoulder as I climbed into the chair he leaned against.

Folding my feet beneath me I pulled the letter from Orlais' commander out from the book I had tucked it into, a rather scandalous tome recommended by Sigrun, and one of the few to survive the attack since it had been upstairs at the time. "I didn't know what else to do. Our entire armory was gutted by the fires, and Master Wade's forge won't be repaired for months. He's not even here anymore; I guess they went back to Denerim until the repairs are done." I shifted in the chair and grumbled to myself. "It bothers me. I shouldn't _have_ to go begging to Orlais for help, Ferelden should provide for us. I don't know why Alistair hasn't answered my letter."

Unfolding the letter sent with the wagon, I scanned it before reading out loud.

"_Dearest Sister, _

_Tales of your most recent victories had already reached our ears when your letter arrived. I fear you will leave none of the darkspawn for the rest of us to kill! Even as I grieve with you for your losses it brings me happiness to see you understand that we share a bond which knows no border, despite the old hostility between our nations. The Wardens of Orlais are happy to assist our brothers and sisters in Ferelden. We have a saying here-"_

I cut off at that point, stumbling over the Orlesian phrase. Anders reached up and pulled the letter from me. "Give me that, your pronunciation is _awful_." He continued reading.

_"We have a saying here: C'est dans le besoin qu'on reconnaît ses vrais amis._

_Your brother in vigilance, _

_Alain, Commander of the Grey in Orlais"_

"What does that mean?" I asked.

Anders stared at it for a moment. "'It is when in need that one renounces his friends.'"

I blinked, trying to parse the sentence. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes I'm sure!" He paused, looking over the sentence again. "Ohh… no, _recognizes, _not _renounces._ I suppose that changes things quite a bit."

"That makes a lot more sense," I said. "Very poetic. When did you learn Orlesian?"

"Taught myself, back in the tower. Figured it would be good to know in case I ever made it that far." I laughed at that image. Sometimes I wondered how he could cast a single spell, it seemed like every moment he was in the tower was spent finding ways to get out again.

We fell into a comfortable silence, both engrossed in our books. At one point Anders pulled my leg over his shoulder, apparently so he could absentmindedly run his fingers across my ankle as he read. I paused in my reading, wondering _what_ possessed Sigrun to grab this book from the library in the first place. It seemed strange that the filthiest thing I'd ever read would end up the sole survivor of the Keep's once impressive collection. I think parts would have made even Zevran blush. _Or not,_ I thought, double checking to make sure he wasn't the author. I shook my head at a passage, _I doubt a noblewoman would really thank someone **that** thoroughly just for filling her bath._

It took me a moment to realize my leg was now leaning against the back of the chair. I looked up from a passage involving a nobleman and his entire kitchen staff doing things I hoped no one in the Keep did anywhere near our food to see Anders was kneeling so we were at eye level. He stared at me above my book with a grin. "What _are_ you reading? Your cheeks are all red!"

"Nothing," I swore, slamming the cover shut. "What are you reading?"

"One of yours… _The Fifth School: Ethical Applications of Blood Magic_. Surprisingly interesting."

I leapt on the change of subject. "I like that one, there's a whole section on Warden mages in it. It was tough to find a copy: even the Tevinter Chantry banned it. I might have, um, borrowed that from Irving when I was cleaning up Uldred's mess in the tower."

"I saw, you bookmarked it. And underlined every other sentence. Your margin notes in the spell section were particularly interesting, though."

"How so?"

He laughed. "You bothered to catalogue which spells work best against what monsters, and you separated out eight different kinds of undead. Really necessary?"

I shrugged, shoving my book between my hip and the chair's arm. "We'll recruit more mages eventually. Some of them may find the information useful."

"You'd teach some new hypothetical recruits blood magic? You never even _offered_ to teach me!"

"And I never will. I don't want someone to feel obligated to learn it, or worry they're insulting me or something if they refuse, so I decided I would only teach Wardens who actually asked." I couldn't tell if Anders was hinting that he wanted to learn blood magic, or just insulted I never offered. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Curiosity, really. And I figured if I read more about it maybe we wouldn't argue quite so much. Plus, your books are the only ones left that I haven't read yet." Well, if he wanted to get technical, our last 'argument' was because one of the solders made a comment about apostates and the Maker's wrath, and he replied with 'it's not as though we're all _maleficar!'_ while I stood two feet away. The thought was sweet, though, so I leaned forward to kiss him. Anders put a hand on my hip and I shifted in the chair as he yanked my book away.

"Hey!"

He was already paging through it, grinning. "Why Maggie… and to think, I'm the one Oghren calls 'the dirty little mage.'" I felt my ears heat up and tried to grab the book back, but Anders just jumped to his feet, holding it from my reach. "Come now, don't be like that. The books belong to everyone." Anders giggled, paging through it rapidly. "done that, done that, done that," he muttered as he skimmed over the text, "done that, oooh, never done _that_, done that, I don't think _that_ is actually physically possible but then I'm not an expert on dwarven anatomy." _Huh,_ I thought, _I must not have read that chapter yet. _"What is an 'Antivan milk sandwich'? I've never even heard of that."

"I'm a little disturbed that you're the second person to assume I would know."

"Who else asked?"

"Sigrun. She's the one who gave me the book."

"Why must I always miss the good conversations?" Anders continued to page through the book, offering occasional commentary. His eyes widened as he read, muttering "oh…"

"What?"

"Nothing!" he said quickly, a flush creeping across his face. I could see Anders chewing on his bottom lip, deep in thought. Taking advantage of his distraction I jumped up and grabbed the book, eager to discover what had captured his attention so fully.

"Oh _indeed_…" I muttered, looking at the passage. He ran a fingertip along the back of my neck, already toying with the laces of my robe.

"Any thoughts?"

"You… you could say that…." I found I was acutely aware of his fingers on my skin.

"I'll fetch some rope," Anders replied quickly, locking the door before starting to dig through my pack I'd shoved into the corner. We were interrupted by someone frantically banging on the door, shouting for me.

Anders groaned, "Commander, I must _insist_ we continue with our meeting as soon as the interruption is dealt with." _This had better be good,_ I thought, opening the door.

"Are we under attack?" I barked, far more harshly than I intended. The maid on the opposite side scurried backwards. "Sorry, sorry," I insisted, softening my voice. "I was in the middle of... a meeting."

"No, Commander. Seneschal Varel sent me for you." She didn't say anything else, instead looking like she was torn between fainting and running to hide.

"Um, all right. Did he happen to say why?"

The maid brightened. "Yes, thank you. He said to tell you…" she drifted off again, looking faint. Maker's breath, I didn't want to be rude, but this fawning over me thing _had _to end.

"Please let me know what he said."

She finally spit it out. "The king is here."


	2. I love what you've done to the place

"About sodding time His Majesty decided to remember us!" The maid gasped at my less than fawning reaction to the king. "Sorry, he and I are old friends," I explained, which didn't seem to help. I finally told her to let Varel know I was on my way, just so she wouldn't keep staring at me.

"So should I dress up?" Anders asked.

"Do you even own anything other than robes?"

"Well, I have _nicer_ robes."

Anders was smoothing his hair back, trying to tuck the few loose strands behind his ears and failing. "Are you nervous?" I asked him. He looked at me and blushed. "Maker's breath, you are! You've _met_ Alistair before, stop worrying; he's really not formal at all."

"I met him _once_," Anders replied. "And if you recall, I was nearly arrested for murder in front of him."

"If it makes you feel any better I was once arrested _with_ him. Had to kill our way out of Fort Drakon. Very messy." I'd nearly shocked Alistair half to death that day. We woke up, dressed only in our smallclothes, in a cell. Someone had even taken the time to put magic-suppressing bracers on me, leaving me completely helpless. Alistair was in a panic, and thought I had lost my mind when I started cooing to the guard outside that I could use some company. Fortunately he'd figured out my plan soon enough. Once he knocked the guard unconscious we were on our way out. I relayed the story to Anders, giggling, and he wordlessly left the room, returning a moment later buttoning up his Warden robes.

"Not making me feel any better here, Maggie," he protested, wrapping the belt around his waist.

"I promise you, Anders, he is not going to start demanding we fetch him things and shouting out royal decrees. Alistair still thinks of himself as a Warden. He didn't even want to be king, I made him."

Anders sighed, smoothing his hair again before giving up. "That isn't it." I held out my arms, demanding an explanation. "You have all these stories of your great adventures, you knew him long before you knew me. I just don't want him to think I'm some kind of crazed murderer."

I giggled. "So… you're worried he won't, um, _approve_ of you?"

"Stop it," Anders insisted. "I don't need his approval. Why would I need his approval? Just because he's your best friend doesn't mean-"

"Anders, if you don't stop talking now you'll dig yourself right into the main hall."

"Right."

"Let's go, if we leave him waiting he'll put us in the stocks." Anders froze midstep and I sighed. "That was a _joke_." Grabbing his hand I dragged Anders from the room.

Alistair stood laughing with Oghren as they pointed around the room, marveling at the destruction. Dressed in leather pants and a matching jerkin Alistair looked disturbingly like paintings of Maric during the war. That had been Eamon's idea; figuring someone of Alistair's build would look absurd prancing around in delicate silks, he decided on cultivating the image of a Warrior-King. People adored him for it since it brought back memories of his father, and I suspected it made us look all the more uncivilized and dangerous to any countries with a mind for invasion. Empress Celine may look wealthy, but she certainly doesn't look capable of cleaving off someone's head without breaking a sweat.

"Mags!" he called as I entered, walking over to us. "I _love_ what you've done to the place." His guards shifted uncomfortably, not sure if they should follow him as he wandered around.

"Yeah, I decided I enjoy spending time with the darkspawn so much I'd ask them to redecorate for me."

He laughed and turned his attention to Anders, glancing at our linked fingers and then raising an eyebrow to me with a smirk. "I remember you, the apostate," Alistair offered by way of greeting. Anders winced, his grip on my hand tightening. "The minute I saw you I knew she'd end up conscripting you. So is life as a Warden all you dreamed and more?"

"Absolutely, Your Majesty" he said.

"Maker, please don't call me that. It's just Alistair to any fellow Warden."

Anders relaxed, letting go of my hand. "Well, Alistair, if it wasn't for the darkspawn-killing requirement I think all of Ferelden would be begging to join up, if only for the house parties. I just wish I could find a way to keep the smell of those bastards from getting into my hair."

"I had the same problem," Alistair replied casually. "Eventually I found a rinse of elfroot did the trick, but she always yelled at me."

"Elfroot is the main ingredient in a health poultice. If you had to stumble around Ferelden on a broken leg I doubt your hair would be as much of a concern," I pointed out.

"My hair is _always_ a concern," Alistair insisted. I rolled my eyes.

Not wanting to get into another conversation about Alistair's hair in this lifetime, I changed the subject. "I wish we could have given you a proper royal welcome," I told him. "But unfortunately, as you can see, the Grey of Ferelden are reduced to living in charred squalor. Thank the Maker for our brothers and sisters in Orlais, otherwise we wouldn't even have armor to wear." I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow towards him.

"Ouch." Alistair rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose I deserve that."

"We got armor?" Oghren piped up.

"Upstairs, last door on the west hall, take _one_ set. Make sure Sigrun and Nathaniel each get one, too."

"Howe's son?" Alistair asked as they ran up the stairs. I nodded. "You sure about that?"

"Andraste's knickers, not _this_ again. Yes, I'm sure. I'm so sure I made him second in command. Nathaniel's a good man, and a good Warden. I'm not going to punish someone because his father was an ass- Nathaniel wasn't even in the country at the time. He's the only reason _any_ of this building is left habitable."

"He saved the life of every civilian here during the attack," Anders added. "He can't take a joke, but I'd still trust him with my life, we all do. You can't blame him for what his father did."

Alistair held up his hands. "Fine, fine. Maker's breath, arguing with her is bad enough, but now with two of you? Do they teach you that at the tower or something?"

"I learned it from her," Anders replied.

"Actually, so did I. The whole shouting out every reason you're right without giving people a second to reply thing works great when I'm arguing with nobles." He laughed at this. "Anyways, I know I'm a day late, but will you still be ready to leave in the morning?"

Anders and I looked at each other. "Leave?" I asked.

It was Alistair's turn to look confused. "Yes, for Denerim. Didn't you get my letter?" I shook my head. "Well, that explains why no one seemed to be expecting me here. I sent you a letter weeks ago saying I'd provide a royal escort for the Wardens to Denerim. There's a parade planned for as soon as we arrive in the city, and then some boring speech-ceremony thing. Your _favorite_, I know. That's why I'm late, I did the royal appearance in the city today instead of dragging you along."

"This is the first I've heard of anything," I told him. "I mean, we _can_ _be_ ready fairly soon, and thankfully the armor from Orlais should look fine for a parade."

"Andraste's ass," Alistair muttered. "I should have known when you didn't reply. I just figured you were too busy with everything that happened here. There's a Landsmeet you'll need to attend and the autumn ball scheduled, too."

"How did you send the letter?"

"One of our private couriers. He returned and didn't mention a problem."

"You may want to double check on that," I suggested.

Alistair's face darkened. "I would, but that's not an option. He was killed in a barfight at the Pearl not even a week later."

"Funny coincidence, that," Anders said, sounding like he didn't believe it was a coincidence at all.

"We can get paranoid later. Let's go pack so we don't fall too much further behind schedule." I invited Alistair to sit in my office while we got ready. He left his guards downstairs, claiming we would be discussing "Warden secrets." I suspect Alistair was just happy not to have someone following him around.

Alistair admired my collection of antique Warden weapons while Anders and I tossed clothes and armor into a trunk. At the last moment I added my only ballgown, even though I wasn't entirely sure it would still fit. I'd had it made just after the blight; two years of nonstop running around Ferelden combined with infrequent meals had left me skinnier than I'd been in years. I'd gone back up to the weight I was when I left the tower since then. "Now this I like," he called from my office. "It's almost classy, much nicer than the whole 'burnt mess' look downstairs."

"And here I thought only Maggie considered implements of death and griffins 'classy.' Can I blame you for having to sleep under a painting of someone slaughtering an archdemon?" Anders laughed at his own joke, but I ignored the insult. If he had his way the walls would all be draped in giant antique tapestries with gilded wall sconces and ornate candleholders everywhere like some high end brothel.

"That _someone_ is Garahel, he ended the fourth blight!" I protested.

"Yes, yes, slaughtered the old god Andoral at the battle of Ayesleigh. The glorious history of the Grey Wardens, I know, I know. It's all very serious and very impressive. Doesn't mean I want to see it first thing after opening my eyes every morning. I normally _like_ mornings. All that archdemon blood kills the mood." The last part was pitched lower, so Alistair couldn't hear from the other room. Anders punctuated that statement with his best lascivious grin, quickly dissolving into laughter as I climbed onto the bed and removed the painting from the wall without another word.

Still laughing, we joined Alistair in the office, Anders pausing to build up a fire before sitting down. "I must admit, I'm jealous of how easy that is for mages," Alistair commented. "Anyways, the whole country has heard of what happened here. Almost everyone is proclaiming you heroes."

"_Almost_ everyone?" Anders replied. "That's disappointing."

"The Grand Cleric has been telling everyone who will listen that this was a sign of the Maker's judgment since we allowed a mage to rule over people."

I winced. "I hardly think the Maker would return to his world and kill the innocents of Amaranthine while letting me live just to prove a point. Wouldn't, say, striking me down in a public place make more sense?"

"Most everyone else says the same thing; they think the Grand Cleric is just blinded by her hate for mages. You're still the most popular woman in Denerim, it would take a lot to make people forget who ended the blight. But, there are those who will always back the Chantry regardless of what she says." Alistair was being far too optimistic. _Most_ people would always back the Chantry, regardless of who I am or what I did for them. The majority of Thedas already hated mages, turning them on one specific mage wouldn't be tough.

"Fantastic," I muttered. "I bet she and the Revered Mother here are the best of friends."

"Actually, I think they are," Alistair said. Anders laughed. "I was surprised when she reassigned her this far from Denerim."

"Reassigned? What do you mean?"

"Well, she hasn't always been here, she was in Denerim before. The Grand Cleric had her sent here…" Alistair paused, wincing. "Had her sent here right after the Wardens were given the Arling. I should have guessed."

"Is driving me mad her new hobby?" I shook my head. "Actually, don't answer that, I'd rather not know." I got up and lit several lamps, it was rapidly getting darker out. "Sorry I can't offer you any tea, we don't have a kitchen yet." Alistair shrugged, unconcerned. On impulse I turned to Anders. "Go get a set of armor. Nathaniel or Oghren can help you figure out what fits. Oghren might be better, you'll want plate, not leather"

"What?" He held up his hands. "Never mind, I know what you're thinking. You're being paranoid but I'm not going to argue. You'll win anyways and agreeing is faster."

"He figured that out quick," Alistair snorted as Anders ran off. "Took me months to realize it."

"You know he was beside himself with worry earlier," I said, now that Alistair and I were alone.

"Unfortunately I'm used to that. Comes with the crown."

"Not even that," I laughed. "I think he was worried you'd disapprove of him."

"He seems decent enough. Better than the last one, that's for sure." Alistair had never entirely approved of Zevran. Although they did become friends, he always thought the Antivan was only using me for entertainment while he was in Ferelden. Of course, it turned out Alistair was right. "Certainly better than my uncle, that's just odd."

"I told you, _nothing_ happened. I swear! We had dinner, like, twice, and went to a ball together, that's it." I changed the subject, not sure I wanted to know if three dates was considered major courtship among nobles. "Is Eamon still on your case about getting married?"

Alistair blushed to the roots of his hair. "not… exactly."

"Alistair, you devil! Who is she?" I demanded, on the edge of my chair.

"Teyrn Couseland's sister. You'd like her, she's not one of those fancy clothes preening sorts. We've actually sparred a few times."

"Sparred," I snickered. "Is that what you're calling it now? Better than that lamppost comparison." Once, after a few beers with Oghren, I'd actually asked Alistair if he'd ever been with someone. He couldn't even bring himself to say the word sex, which was answer enough.

"What do you take me for, some kind of lecherous mage? I actually mean _sparred. _She gave me a run for my money, too. It's going to be announced at the ball."

I gave him a hug. "Congratulations! My little templar is all grown up! If you want a Warden honor guard at the wedding just say the word. Given enough notice I might even be able to sober Oghren up."

"Now that's a thought," he mused. "How about you? I recall someone kicking Zevran out of their tent in the middle of the night for months. Actually trusting someone around you while you're unconscious…" Alistair gave me a knowing look. "So what are mage weddings like? Do you shoot each other with lightning at the end? That would be entertaining."

I sputtered, "Wedding? Maker's breath, let's not get ahead of ourselves here."

"You're joking. Even Oghren says you two have been inseparable since you got to Amaranthine. Told me it was 'sodding nauseating.'"

"Shouldn't the king be above gossip?"

"I'm a _noble_ now, gossip is practically required." I rolled my eyes. "Come on, out with it. Is it _love?_ Is it to be a white dress or will you wear mage robes for the wedding? Are you going to take his name? Oooh, can you name the first baby after me?"

"We already have the same name, Alistair. And have you forgotten we kill darkspawn for a living? That's not exactly the ideal career for someone looking to start a family, even if both people weren't practically barren."

"You're not brother and sister, are you?" Alistair looked slightly horrified. I hit him on the shoulder.

"Maker's breath, no. Ewww. They change it when we get to the tower." I paused. "Actually, I don't _have_ a last name anymore, technically. Which is just fine by me."

"I notice you avoided the rest of my question."

"You're a very observant man, Alistair. I've always said that about you."

"So that's how it is, then?" He shook his head. "You can't fool me; I've seen you give someone that look before."

"And that turned out _so well_ for me, didn't it?" I replied. "Can you blame me for being a bit hesitant to, you know, throw myself out there to get tossed away again."

"What, did you get that from Zevran? Not saying something out loud keeps it from being true?"

"You just _had_ to bring him up?" I winced.

"Sorry," Alistair said. "I figured you were over that. He wrote me asking about you again, I guess it was on my mind."

"_Well _over that, believe me. I just don't like the reminder of how easy I am to forget."

"Forget you? Never!" Anders returned, dropping a set of armor to the floor before leaning over to kiss me on the cheek.

"How long have you been standing there listening?!"

"Long enough," he replied, sitting down. "Your paranoia is just part of your charm. Not that I can claim to be any better. I say we blame the Circle."

"Works for everything else, I don't see why not." I put aside my embarrassment. "Did you tell everyone to be ready to leave tomorrow?"

"_And_ I told Varel we'd be gone for a bit after I asked someone to bring us dinner. You should have made me your second in command!"

"You really want to deal with tactics, leading people, recruiting, and paperwork?"

"Andraste's knickers, no."

"Well, there you go."

A maid appeared with a tray of our usual no-kitchen camp rations and a couple bottles of wine. _I think at this point I'd actually stab someone for a bowl of stew_, I thought, looking at the cold dried meat. She tried to walk from the room backwards, in awe of Alistair, and ended up hitting the doorframe. I tried _so hard_ not to laugh.

"Are we going to be paranoid about this missing letter?" I asked as we ate.

"Well apparently you're making mages wear _armor_, so I think it's clear you've decided," Anders replied. "I feel absurd in that getup, by the way. And I was tired after just putting it on."

"I'll teach you some spells that will help. Just humor me, if the Grand Cleric is riling people up against us before we even get there…" Anders shrugged, but didn't argue. "Alistair," I said, "what if you give someone else the arling? I don't need it, I don't even _want_ it. Just let us have the Keep."

"The First Warden will have your head," Anders reminded me. "You know, if he ever bothers to acknowledge we exist down here."

"Screw him," I muttered.

"Who are you?" Anders demanded, looking angry. "Since when would you let some religious fanatic send us running?"

"If it was just me I wouldn't," I insisted. "I ask so much of all of you as it is, I don't want to risk your lives to make some statement against the Chantry."

"So we're back to letting them dictate our lives?"

"Who do you think the second best target to me would be, Anders? You think they don't know how I conscripted you out from under the templars?"

"So this is about me?" Anders slammed his glass on the table. Andraste's tits, Maggie, I don't need you _protecting_ me. Just because you're my commanding officer doesn't mean I'm incapable of taking care of myself."

"When did I say you were?" I shouted right back at him. Alistair shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.

"You know, as entertaining as watching two mages fight can be," he said slowly, "this argument may be for nothing." I looked at my hands; they were covered in a thin layer of ice. I showed Anders as he displayed his own, lightning arcing between his fingers. We both burst out laughing.

"Sorry," I said, shaking the magic from my hands. "I- I didn't mean it like that," I told Anders. "I'm sorry. I just… if anything happened…" I shrugged.

"I know. We both worry," he said simply. "Hey, our first argument!"

"How nice I could be a part of this for you. If an argument is enough to set off the magic I hate to think… wait, no, I don't want to know."

"You sure?" Anders asked. "There was this one time, in the Revered Mother's bed-"

"Wait, WHAT?!" Alistair's jaw dropped.

"Anders, he doesn't want to-"

"Sure he does! It's a great story!"

"No, I _don't!"_

"What's a great story?" Oghren had appeared in the doorway, holding two bottles of… something. _Maker, save me_, I thought. He dropped into a chair and put his feet up on the table, passing a bottle around. "Maggie," he greeted me. "Sparkle-fingers," Anders lifted his glass, "Pike-twirler," Alistair grimaced.

"You all packed?"

He nodded. "Everyone's ready. I had to escape. You don't want to know what Mr. Quiet and Stoic is doing with our spicy dust town lass."

Anders snorted. "What?! Nathaniel and Sigrun?"

"I knew it!" I cheered.

"What, what- no, not _that_. She heard we'd be going to a ball and decided he has to teach her how to dance." Oghren looked at me. "Wait, the two of them…?"

"I have a suspicion," I said.

"Damn," he muttered. "I just hope they're not as bad as you two. That night in the Chantry before we fought the Architect… Ancestor's tits, it made me want to vomit." I choked. I didn't think we'd been loud enough to wake them.

"We, um… thought you were asleep."

"Who could sleep with the two of you carrying on?" He grunted in disgust. "Warriors get drunk before battle, or at least have a good time without pants on. They don't get all weepy and start telling each other how much they love them. Sodding disgraceful." _Oh, so that was the part he heard_, I thought, not sure if I should be relieved. Sure, we joked about actually having sex in the revered mother's bed. Well, Anders joked, and I worried about being struck down for my blasphemy, but either way, it wasn't a secret. Our conversation after hadn't been mentioned since. I'd put it off to his night-before-potential-agonizing-death jitters. He may have thought the same of me.

"Ohhh..." Anders said. "You must have slept through the 'good time without pants on' part of the evening.

Oghren sputtered. "Manskirt-wearing freak."

"Yes, I suppose for me it's always no pants on time. I'm lucky like that. Shame you missed it, though. Some of the noises she makes-"

"ANDERS!" He looked over at me and grinned. "You need to stop talking. Now. _Please. _Don't think I won't freeze you to shut your mouth."

"Sorry, Commander. Just wanted to make sure no one was questioning us as warriors."

"Very thoughtful of you." I rolled my eyes, taking a belt of Oghren's mystery booze. "What is this?" I asked him, holding up the glass.

"Moonshine from the Free Marches." It could never be anything normal. Not Antivan brandy or Orlesian wine. Moonshine. Brilliant.

"More," I shrugged, holding my hand out for the bottle. "Hey Alistair, remember that night we camped outside Haven and you got so drunk you fell in the fire?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. And Zevran pushed me, I didn't fall. But before this conversation devolves any further and we start singing jaunty pub songs, I did have something to add to our earlier discussion," Alistair said.

"About the Revered Mother's bed?" Anders asked him before throwing back another shot.

"Maker, no. I never want to hear about that again, in fact. And you might not want to tell anyone else, the Chantry isn't exactly fans of you two at the moment." He winced, setting his glass down. "It's about the Arling." I looked at Alistair, gesturing for him to go on. "See, in short… Ferelden's broke. Towards the end of the occupation the Orlesians emptied the treasury and sent almost anything of value to Val Royeaux. I guess they knew their days were numbered. We still hadn't recovered from that when the blight hit, which cost a ton to fix as well. I did manage to scrape something up to help with the rebuilding now, but we can't afford the normal tithes for you. The only thing keeping the Wardens afloat now is the tax money from Amaranthine. So, if I give the Arling to someone else, well, you have nothing."

"Ouch," I said flatly. "Why didn't anyone tell me, though?"

"Varel knew, and your bookkeeper. I guess everyone assumed they would tell you if you needed to know. You're not exactly good with money."

"Sure I am," I said.

"No, you're not," Oghren agreed. "How much did you donate to that phony charity?"

"Ohhh… the one for the blight orphans, but they spelled orphans wrong on the sign?" Anders laughed. "I still can't believe anyone fell for that."

"Fine," I muttered, taking another drink, "that answers that." I laughed, more from the alcohol than any actual mirth. "Anyways, show of hands, who thinks Alistair's missing letter with the mysteriously killed courier was part of a conspiracy?"

"What letter?" Oghren asked.

Alistair started to answer but I spoke first. "Sent it after the big mess here, saying there would be a parade for us, a Landsmeet I have to go play noble at, and a big party. Never arrived, and the courier who said it did was very coincidentally killed in a barfight."

Oghren raised his hand. Anders and I did the same after a couple seconds. "Oghren, you don't count," Alistair protested. "You're from Orzammar, you think everything's a conspiracy."

"Because it usually is."

"You think everyone's out to get you," he said to me. "and from what I can see, you're exactly the same," Alistair added, turning to Anders.

"Only because everyone _is_ out to get us," I said. "well, everyone who's a religious chantry type. Except Leliana. She's not out to get us. Wynne might be, though. I wonder sometimes."

"I don't believe in coincidences," Anders slurred. "I believe in signs, portents, omens, messages from the Maker, prophesies, and coincidences." He paused. "Wait, no, not the last one. No coincidences."

"You're drunk," I told him.

"And you're pretty," he replied, tapping me on the nose. Giggling, I grabbed his hand.

"And that's my cue to leave," Alistair said, standing up. "I'll be in the room next door, I assume Anders won't need it." We wished him goodnight. Oghren followed after a second.

"For all the different things you brew up here you surfacers can't handle your booze," Oghren announced, before closing the door. "Maggie, Sparkle-fingers, I'd tell you not to burn the Keep down, but too late for that. So knock yourselves out."


	3. What kind of instruction is more purple

We left shortly after dawn. Anders and I shared the first coach with Alistair, the others in the second. It was a strategic decision. With time limited I wanted to teach Anders the spells needed to master the arcane warrior techniques while we traveled, so he could familiarize himself with blades when we camped.

Unfortunately I'd never actually _taught_ a spell to anyone. Normally you would take classes on how to teach spells after your Harrowing, before you made full enchanter. Since I'd left the day after my Harrowing I never had. With Alistair there I had some degree of security that, if things went completely awry, he could dispel the magic before the three of us burst into flames or something. Having your magic suddenly drained by a templar was unpleasant to say the very least, but better than accidentally teaching Anders how to set himself on fire with his mind.

"No, I don't think that's right," I said, observing Anders. "More… purple."

"Purple?" He cast me an incredulous glance. "What kind of instruction is 'more purple'?"

I sighed and demonstrated again. Alistair shifted uncomfortably as the level of magic rose, watching us for any sign of danger. Anders copied my gestures, this time managing to mimic them perfectly. The shield flickered into life, purple and then undetectable. "Yes!" I said. "OK, now try and pick up Alistair."

"Wait… _what?" _The king eyed me with confusion.

"Come on, it won't take a second," I protested. "This should channel his magic into strength. If it worked he's easily as strong as you now, if not more. I can't think of any other decent way to test without making us stop."

"Fine," Alistair groaned. "Just… don't tell anyone."

"Believe me, not planning on it," Anders replied, trying to balance in the moving carriage. "Sorry, Your Majesty," he said before reaching an arm under Alistair's backside and hefting him into the air. I nodded with satisfaction. Setting the king back down Anders returned to the bench next to me.

"Well?" I asked him.

"I would have expected him to be heavier."

I clapped my hands. "Try me now!"

Anders picked me up easily. "You weigh half of what you did last night!" I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Nope. You're just twice as strong as you were, so it's less strain." After a moment I added "you can set me down now."

"Is that an order?" Anders replied, grinning.

"Yes," Alistair answered before I could reply.

Anders set me down on the bench with a halfhearted grumble. "What a relief," I muttered. "I was worried I'd accidently help you discover some new method of magical self immolation by mistake. I've never taught anyone a spell before."

"What is the Chantry stance on this school of magic, by the way?" Anders asked, looking curious but unconcerned.

"I don't think they _have_ one, to be honest. I was the first person to learn it in hundreds of years, maybe the first human ever, and you're the only one I've taught it to. It was a dalish technique." I explained the phylactery I found in the Brecilian forest.

"I think, if they haven't specifically approved it, we can assume it's banned. I guess it was only a matter of time before you turned me into a maleficar."

That night at camp Oghren attempted to train Anders on two handed weapons, and then Alistair did with a shield. Being used to staying in the background, he wasn't used to the offensive attitude needed for both techniques. Eventually he settled on fighting with two weapons, or a single handed weapon and a staff, as I did, so he could go after attacks of opportunity. I sat by the fire with Alistair and Oghren, drinking ale and watching Sigrun and Nathaniel patiently explain stances, grips, and movements to him. To say it was going slowly would have been an understatement.

"I guess Howe might not have been such a bad choice," Alistair said suddenly. "He hasn't killed Anders yet."

"He's not _that_ bad," I protested. Sigrun easily dodged one of Anders' strikes, tripping him and sending him falling forward. "All right, I see your point."

"He's better than you were," Oghren pointed out.

"So far," Alistair said.

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Maggie, you fell in the campfire," Oghren reminded me.

"And you knocked over two tents!" Alistair added. I winced. All right, I suppose I was worse. I caught on eventually, though. I still didn't stand a chance in a fight without magic, but it helped.

"I get the point," I replied.

"Do you ever miss it?" Alistair asked suddenly.

"Miss what? Falling in campfires? Not really, no. It took Wynne a couple hours to fix me up after that."

"I mean the blight. Well, not the _blight_ itself, but you know what I mean."

"We did have some fun," I said. "Never would have imagined at the time, you know? Always broke, going hungry more often than not, constantly getting hurt. But yeah, part of me does. _This_ is going to sound insane, but I didn't realize how much I even missed the fighting and killing parts until I came up here."

"Shame you're a mage, Maggie. You would have made a fine berserker," Oghren laughed. "Run headfirst into danger, that's the only way to live."

"And sod the consequences?" I asked. I'd heard this speech from him before.

"You know it." We clinked glasses.

"I wonder if I might have picked some of it up from you anyways," I laughed. "Remember the templars in Amaranthine?" Oghren roared with laughter.

"Templars? What's this?" Alistair looked concerned.

"Word of advice," Oghren told him. "Don't get between her and Anders."

"Don't try and get me in trouble!" I protested, hitting Oghren in the shoulder. "You know that's not what happened."

"What _did_ happen?"

"Well, remember Ser Rylock, who tried to arrest Anders?" Alistair nodded. "Apparently she thought 'Right of Conscription' translated to 'set a trap for a Grey Warden and try to arrest him.' She left us no choice, really."

"Keep telling yourself that, woman," Oghren replied. "You didn't even try and talk her out of it. Nathaniel had to hold you back until you'd goaded her enough to draw first!"

Alistair groaned, shaking his head. "What was the trap?"

"They spread a rumor that the phylacteries were moved from Denerim to Amaranthine during the blight."

"Why should that matter? Templars can't go after Wardens."

"And yet, they did, hence this conversation."

"Maggie, they were acting outside the Chantry authority. I doubt anyone even gave the order."

"You think they'll be the last?"

"That Ser Rylock seemed to really have a grudge against Anders, she acted like it was personal. I figured you knew her, too. She called you some choice names and then made fun of your hair." I bit my lip, trying to hide my laughter. It didn't work. "What now, Maggie?"

"Never met her before that. Let's just say she wasn't above breaking her vows. And that we have similar taste in men."

"Maker's breath. He didn't…"

"Well, in his defense, it was all part of an escape plot."

"Why am I not surprised?" He shook his head. "Please don't make this a regular occurrence. I can't protect you if the templars and Chantry come out against the Wardens officially."

"I'm not trying to start some kind of war, Alistair," I protested. "I just want us to be left alone to do our jobs. I can't control if they try and push us into a fight."

Alistair didn't seem to have a counter for that, so we settled into silence watching Anders training. He wasn't _that _bad, but Sigrun and Nathaniel were both so much better he didn't have a chance using blades alone. Anders intentionally making mistakes to aggravate Nathaniel didn't help matters, either.

Realizing he was being watched, Anders turned to give me a courtly bow and a wink.

"You always go for the swishy winking ones, don't you," Oghren muttered.

"At least she's predictable," Alistair replied. "I saw this months ago."

Oghren snorted. "I think we all knew they'd be tapping the midnight still sooner or later." One of Alistair's guards snorted.

"Can we not talk about me?" I asked. "You're engaged," I said to Alistair, "and you're married," I reminded Oghren. "Why is my life so interesting?"

"If I have to deal with the two of you ogling each other in the coach I get to gossip" Alistair asked.

"I do not _ogle_."

"Oh sure, I never saw those longing eyes following that manskirt wearing freak whenever you thought no one was watching. Must have been Nathaniel watching him."

"Any reason _you_ were watching Anders so closely, Oghren? Should I be concerned? Jealous?"

He sputtered. "What? No! Draw your sword and say that again!"

I laughed, but Alistair only said "You won't scare me that easily." Scaring Alistair was, in actuality, much easier. Finishing my ale I refilled the glass and turned to him.

"Fine, you want to know alllll about me and Anders? Sure." I grinned. "So last night after you left Anders pinned me to the mattress and untied my robes with his _teeth_. Then he grabbed me by the hair with one hand, and with the other he-"

"Woah, woah, not listening!" Thank the Maker for predictable Chantry prudery.

"But Alistair, I thought you were interested in my relationship?" I played innocent.

"I wanted to tease you, not hear… details!"

"You're going to be a husband soon, though. You should know what to do. Ferelden must have an heir, after all. I'm sure Anders would consider it his patriotic duty to provide you with some advice. I can personally recommend this one this thing he does with his-"

"NOT LISTENING!" Alistair covered his ears, blushing to the color of Oghren's beard.

"I am," Oghren said. "So, details?"

"Details on what?" Anders asked, sitting by the fire to heal several small cuts he had acquired during the training session.

"Alistair and Oghren find themselves fascinated by us. Although I wonder why Oghren feels the need to watch you so closely, it did occur to me that you might be able to offer some advice to His Majesty."

I had told Anders about Alistair's complete inability to discuss sex or anything close to it without blushing and stammering. He grinned. "Oh, absolutely. You don't want to go to the wedding night unprepared."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Alistair snapped.

"Well, yes, you could be _fine._ Or you could leave our Queen panting your name and screaming to the Maker loud enough for us to hear her in Amaranthine." Anders, enjoying the audience, settled back on his elbows. I'd had just enough ale to find this hilarious instead of embarrassing. "Unfortunately most of my best techniques require you to control the power of lightning and ice in your fingertips."

"What?!" Alistair eyed me and I nodded. His expression faltered, landing somewhere between horrified and insanely curious.

"Don't worry about that, it'll just make you jealous of mages," Anders replied. "I think I can still be of assistance. Taking notes wouldn't be a bad idea. The most important thing to remember is to pay lots of attention to her-"

"Maker's breath, please stop talking, both of you!"

"I only wish to aid Ferelden in any way I can," Anders insisted. "You do need to make more little Therins, after all, and that won't be easy for a Warden. I've found frequency isn't a problem what with that famous stamina," with that Oghren laughed and Alistair blushed even redder, "but the Queen may object if she isn't enjoying herself as well."

"You're a bad man. You're both bad people. You deserve each other."

Anders crawled over and put his head in my lap. "You hear that, Maggie? We've got the royal blessing!"

"I'll sleep easier tonight knowing that."

"Me too! Eventually." He grinned up at me. With that, we wished everyone goodnight and ducked into our tent.

* * *

"When should we reach Denerim," I asked Alistair as we traveled the following afternoon.

"No later than midday tomorrow, I think." I nodded, stretching out on the bench so my legs were across Anders' lap. We'd started out well before dawn in order to keep on schedule. Having half the city in the streets for a parade without the guests of honor wasn't the wisest move, if one wanted to avoid riots in the capital.

I must have dozed off despite the bumpy road since Anders was soon shaking me awake. The coach had stopped and Alistair was jumping out the door, shield in hand. "Bandits," Anders said simply before grabbing his staff and following Alistair out out. I joined them a second later.

Once the bandits had been killed I knelt over one of the bodies. They had fallen easily. Bandits were never a real challenge, to be honest. Between fighting ogres, emissaries, abominations and broodmothers a few normal humans didn't stand much of a chance against Wardens. These seemed extra pathetic, though.

"I intentionally made sure neither of the coaches had the royal heraldry on them," Alistair said, looking confused. I glanced over at the mounted guards who had been riding at the front and rear of our procession; their shields were plain as well.

"Coaches are rare enough in Ferelden, they would almost have to assume we're nobles. Two of them must look tempting," I replied.

Nathaniel examined one of them. "This armor is pathetic," he announced, "even for bandits." Sigrun grabbed a sword off one of them, stabbing it into the ground. The blade flexed. Even I knew that shouldn't happen.

"Weapons aren't exactly top of the line, either," she said. "Even for human craftsmanship."

"Are we sure they're bandits?" I asked. Maybe some new cult had formed and we wandered into their territory? Or they were just a random group of madmen?

"Didn't think to ask for identification," Oghren grunted. He had a point. People attacking might shout '_hey, get them_,' or even on rare occasions, '_kill the Wardens!_' but they didn't often stop to say '_pardon us, we're bandits attacking every traveler on this road and robbing their corpses._' I searched the nearest body for some hint. Cheap weapons, cheap armor, a few coppers, a plain ring that was turning his finger green under it, and a Chantry amulet.

"What did you find," Alistair asked. I relayed my results to him. Nathaniel reported similarly, as did Sigrun and Anders. Oghren had found a silver on the body he checked, but it was otherwise the same.

"Odd," I muttered. "You'd think bandits would have more money. Maybe we were their first victims."

Nathaniel looked over the pile of items we had retrieved. "Maggie, how many bandits have you known?"

"Known? Besides the ones I've killed? None."

"Well, from what you _do_ know of them, would you say bandits are particularly devout Andrastians?"

I snorted with laughter. "Oh yeah. Blessed are the bandits, the exploiters of the weak. Benedictions 17, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Never mind that two of the most devoutly religious people I know are both promiscuous mages, which seems equally unlikely, I'm actually inclined to agree."

"I'm _not_ promiscuous," I insisted. "Well, not anymore."

"I didn't say a name and yet you assumed I was talking about you?" He laughed, but then went on. "Seriously, though…. This is… troubling, given what His Majesty has told us." Nathaniel was still refusing to call Alistair by his name. As well as avoiding looking directly at him or speaking to him. I'd reminded him that, had it not been for Loghain and his father's actions, Alistair would be a particularly miserable templar at the moment. That didn't seem to help matters any, though. It was an admittedly lousy line of reasoning, true, but no worse than Nathaniel believing he should feel guilt over his father's actions despite being outside the country at the time.

I walked over to him. "What's on your mind, Nathaniel?" He gestured to the pile of items we had gathered. He separated a few out, pointing to each body they came from. "_Andraste's tits!" _I cursed loudly, stomping my foot. Everyone else snapped to attention, looking at me. "Good eye," I patted Nathaniel's shoulder, turning to the others. "They're not _bandits_. At least, I don't think they are. They were all wearing religious medallions." Nathaniel stood up, holding a scrap of paper he had found on one of them.

"'_Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him,_'" he read, "_This is the commandment of our Maker, as revealed to the blessed Andraste, his bride and prophet. Despite this, the nobles of Denerim have flaunted their disrespect for our holy Chant, placing a woman cursed with magic in the seat of power. Ruling over Amaranthine, without the guidance and supervision of our holy templars, she calls other apostates and maleficar to her side like the magisters of ancient Tevinter."_

"Can someone please tell me this is a joke," I groaned, sitting in the dirt. "Are they really so _stupid?_ I understand the mage thing. I don't agree, but I _get it_. Comparing me to a Tevinter magister? I'm a _Grey Warden. _Maker's breath, my entire existence is based around cleaning up the mistakes of the magisters!"

"No one ever said religious fanatics were intelligent," Anders pointed out. "Where's the rest of these apostates and maleficar? Were you planning to introduce us?"

"There's more," Nathaniel said, continuing to read. "'_The destruction of Amaranthine was only the first sign of the Maker's judgment upon us. If this travesty is allowed to continue soon all of Thedas will suffer.' _And there's, well, I think it's a picture of you." I held my hand out for the tract.

"By all the..." I dropped it to the dirt, shaking my head. "I _do not_ have _horns_!"

Alistair picked it up. "Decent job on the eyes, but they left out that scar across your eyebrow. Not so much around the chin, and I guess the artist hadn't seen you since you grew your hair out. And, well, yeah. The horns are a bit much. Artistic license, I guess."

"Thank you, Alistair. So glad to know it does me justice." I sighed. "I don't suppose it says who printed it?" Head shakes all around. "Of course. Well, this is fun." Climbing to my feet I stretched my legs and groaned. "So, someone is printing off these things, passing them out, and, what? Normal devout people think they can get in good with the Maker if they commit suicide by Grey Wardens?" Alistair coughed and I waved my hand. "Yes, I realize they planned, or hoped, to kill us. But come on, I've killed ogres and archdemons. They've killed, what, bunnies and deer? Good luck with that. They couldn't honestly expect to win in a fight, even if I was alone."

"So this is how the surfacer religion rewards someone who saved the world?" Sigrun asked, her voice loaded with sarcasm. "I'll remember it the next time anyone asks me if I really worship rocks."

"Let's go with isolated fanatics for now," I said. Hopefully that was true, but even if I was wrong there was nothing we could do about it standing in the middle of a road halfway between Amaranthine and Denerim, without a town for miles. "Alistair, have your guards on high alert. We need to get moving if we want to stay on schedule."

Sitting in the carriage I cursed. "This, right here? This is a damned mess." No one argued. "Alistair, I want you to make Nathaniel the Arl. This has to end."

"How do you propose I do that? 'Oh, that land we took from the Howes? Just kidding!'"

"It would be easy. What does the decree say now? The position of Arl is filled by the highest ranked Ferelden-born Warden? Just make it so it goes to the highest ranked Ferelden born Grey Warden who isn't a mage. He's on record with Weisshaupt as my lieutenant."

"Frankly, I think naming a mabari the Arl would be easier to get through the Landsmeet," Alistair said. "No one, anywhere, will vote to put a Howe back in power. I know he's not his father, but that's just how it is. Excluding him, you've got two dwarves from Orzammar, and another mage. I think you'll just have to ride this out. Maker's breath, the only reason they agreed to you instead of passing it along to another noble was because you're the blasted Hero of Ferelden."

"Thanks again for that title, by the way," I added with a sneer. "Very inspired."

"Hey! I was pretty angry with you at the time. You're just lucky I didn't have you declared "Biggest Bitch in Ferelden."

"Eamon wouldn't let you?"

"Told me it would be bad for my image to smear the person who got me my throne." I laughed at this.

Fortunately the rest of the trip was uneventful. We made camp late that night, the ramparts of Fort Drakon already visible in the distance. I looked over everyone the following morning. The Wardens all dressed in the plate armor from Orlais while I wore Commander Dryden's antique armor, with the dual griffin heraldry of the Warden Commander. Other than each of us having a staff and sword crossed on our backs, you would never know Anders and I were mages. I had to admit, seeing him in anything that wasn't a robe or, well, nothing at all was strange. _It is a shame he keeps those legs covered all the time,_ I thought and blushed slightly. Anders was shifting around uncomfortably.

"Try not to look like you're being tortured," I whispered to him.

"I feel like a fool in this getup," he protested. "I can't wait to get out of it."

"I'm looking forward to that, too," I agreed.

"I look that ridiculous, then?"

"Actually, quite the opposite." I winked and walked over to the coach, taking my seat. Anders joined not long after, a grin on his face. "What's the plan?" I asked Alistair.

"We get out at the city gates," he said. "The drivers will take the coaches and our stuff on to the palace through another gate, and we switch to an open carriage. There's a platform outside the palace where you all stand and look shiny while I give a speech." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks again for making me king, by the way. I love public speaking. Landsmeet tomorrow, followed by the ball. Then one of the coaches takes you home. You can keep it; the driver knows he's being reassigned to the Wardens."

"Nice," I said. "That'll be a big help. We're going to Orzammar soon, I don't expect most recruits from there will know how to ride a horse."

"Not the Circle first?" he asked. "I figured you'd want to get more mages."

"Nathaniel can go, I don't think they'd want to see me," I admitted. "And I don't want to go there either."

"You're probably right," he admitted. "Did you tell them about templars?"

"I had to," I admitted. "They were pushing for looking at them as recruits as well." Alistair nodded.

"As long as it's just the Wardens who know, I guess its ok. I can't imagine a templar would ever follow your orders anyways, even if there wasn't the lyrium addiction issue."

"Yeah, I pointed that out as well. Oghren thought I was just holding a grudge, but I think he understands now."

We climbed out of the coaches at the city gates, meeting up with a small contingent of Alistair's guards who were waiting for us with Arl Eamon. He spoke to them briefly before waving me over.

"Eamon," I said, hugging him in greeting. "How are you? How is Connor?"

"Isolde is visiting him as we speak," he told me. Alistair had insisted on allowing mages and their families to retain ties after the blight. The Chantry had argued, but not allowing children to see parents didn't prove very easy to sell and they dropped it eventually. I nodded, smiling. "He loves it at the Circle," Eamon added, smiling. Well, I guess _someone_ had to. He made a face suddenly and leaned towards me. "We've had to change the route," Eamon whispered with a conspiratorial air.

"Why?"

"The Grand Cleric is standing in front of the Chantry reading from the Canticle of Transfigurations waiting for us to pass by. I decided avoiding the controversy completely would be best."

_Fantastic._ I agreed with him and got into the carriage where he directed, followed by Nathaniel, refusing to meet Eamon's eye, and then Alistair. Anders sat between Sigrun and Oghren behind us, at her request. Oghren had, apparently, taken to asking her if he could 'open her shiny wrapper,' before adding that his had a 'intoxicating cream filling.'

"All right, everyone, wave and smile."


	4. secretly well disguised genlocks

The procession went off without a hitch. People cheered for us as we went by, everyone flashed their biggest grins, and no one made an obscene gesture or lewd remark. _And no one took a shot at us,_ my mind added, but I kept that thought shoved deeply away. Reaching the end, Anders stopped to offer me a hand out of the carriage, a gesture that earned us more than a few comments from the assembled crowds. "You know the rumors will fly after this," I whispered as we walked up to the platform.

"Why do you think I did it?" he replied. "Just crushing the hopes of the men of Denerim." He greatly overestimated the appeal of a woman who used magic to kill monsters on a regular basis, but I wasn't about to complain.

We stood quietly, trying to look both imposing and friendly at once but only managing to hit on uncomfortable, while Alistair regaled the crowd with the story of our refusal to let Amaranthine burn, and of Nathaniel's singlehandedly saving the civilians of Vigil's Keep, as well as the story of our lost comrades. We decided to claim Velanna died in the attack in public, although I still believed she had simply left. It was typical speech nonsense. 'Above and beyond the call of duty,' 'proven to be both loyal Wardens and friends to Ferelden,' 'fearless warriors who risked their own home to save the innocent,' and so on. Alistair's speeches had improved dramatically since I heard him last. The people had always loved him, as they would any son of Maric the Savior, but now they seemed to love Alistair for himself. He had an easy charm and a quick wit, after all, and was rather easy on the eyes.

Finally it was over and we went inside. A servant showed us up to our rooms so we could 'freshen up' from the journey, as they put it, before going to dinner. They had put me in the same room I stayed in after the blight, near the royal apartments. Anders and I helped each other with the buckles on our armor, changing back into the much more familiar and comfortable robes, before reuniting with everyone in the hallway and heading downstairs.

"In public we should use Alistair's title until he tells us otherwise," I reminded them. "He won't care, but other people will. If you're not sure about protocol ask me or Nathaniel. We should probably all try and eat like normal people, too."

Dinner turned out to be a slightly less formal affair than I had worried. Various nobles sat around the table, but they were all people I had become friends with when I spent a year living in Denerim. Whoever arranged the seating had scattered the Wardens throughout the group so everyone had a chance to ask us questions about our adventures personally. I saw Nathaniel speaking quietly with a blonde woman I didn't recognize. They both looked unhappy. Their heads leaned towards each other, but they were looking at their plates.

I was between Alistair and Bann Shianni. "I asked to sit near you," she whispered midway through the meal. "You're looking to recruit more people, right?"

"Absolutely," I told her. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"There are a few elves in the Alienage you might want to consider. None have formal training, though." This would be true, up until Alistair became king and changed the laws elves were forbidden to even carry weapons within the city, much less train with their use.

"Wardens have never required formal training," I told her. "We can always help them with that later, if the candidate is otherwise suitable."

She smiled at that. A moment later she asked "Is it true your mage friend is an apostate?"

I nodded. "I suspect the Chantry thinks we both are, technically. The treaties don't allow them to touch us, though." I shifted in my seat, not wanting to have this discussion given recent events. Leading her back to the topic of recruits I offered to return to the Alienage with her after dinner. Shianni accepted readily.

"I may have to drag a few out of bed, but I suspect we won't have much time otherwise, between the Landsmeet and the ball. I hate when they make both the same day, I never know if I should dread it or look forward to it."

"Believe me, I know what you mean. I suspect Alistair knew I'd send my seneschal to represent me at the Landsmeet if there wasn't a promise of music and dancing later in the evening." Alistair himself laughed at that.

"You've caught me!" he announced.

"While we're on the subject," I added, "you do realize none of the Wardens own a single thing suitable for a court ball?"

"Fix my Keep, rebuild my city, give us fancy clothes. Poke poke poke," Alistair mocked. "I figured as much, don't worry. There are piles of clothes around here, I'm sure you can find something to fit. I had someone drag out all the formalwear before I left." He paused briefly. "Didn't you have a gown made after the blight? I remember it, with the griffins embroidered on the hem."

"Funny thing, that," I mused. "Start eating regular meals again and your clothes suddenly don't fit quite as well."

Dinner broke up and I told the others of Shianni's offer. Everyone wanted to go, if only to get out of the palace. Grabbing weapons, we headed out.

I marveled in the changes in the Alienage since I had last been there. Houses shone with fresh paint and repairs, the muddy dirt roads had been graveled, and flowers bloomed around the great tree at the center. Leading us to her house, Shianni settled us in the main room and excused herself. It was small but well appointed, with everything shiny and new. Part of the fallout from her new status, I assumed.

"So this is where the elves live?" Sigrun asked.

"Some of them, yes," I replied. "It's much nicer than the last time I was here."

"His Majesty has a strange sense of humor," Nathaniel muttered, breaking the silence he had maintained since dinner.

"Is that a general observation, or a specific one?"

"I was seated next to Elissa Cousland."

"_That's_ who she was!" I exclaimed. "Her betrothal to Alistair is being announced tomorrow." Nathaniel nodded and suddenly it hit me. She was the youngest Cousland, of the two remaning. To be specific, two remained because the rest of her family had been killed. To be even more specific, they had been killed by Nathaniel's father. "ohhhh…" I said as soon as I realized the reason for his discomfort.

"Indeed."

"Did she say something to you? I can make sure you're not seated near her again." Although I'd prefer she not hold a grudge, I honestly couldn't blame her if she did. Nathaniel had nothing to do with that ugly incident, but emotions run high when families are involved.

He laughed bitterly. "She said it wasn't my fault and she was glad I found a place for myself."

"It _wasn't_ your fault, Nathaniel." I had told him this many times, we all had.

He shrugged. "So you keep telling me." Nathaniel looked down at his hands. "Even after all he did, he was still my father. If I could hate him, maybe I wouldn't blame myself. I should hate him, and yet…"

"Hate what he _did_, then," Oghren said flatly. "You can't always save someone from their own stupidity." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I hate what Branka did for that damned anvil. But I still love the brilliant girl I married." Oghren was, of course, completely right, and perhaps of all of us the only one who came close to understanding what Nathaniel was going through. This was a side of him he rarely displayed, and with good reason. I'd been told in Orzammar that Oghren didn't drink often until Branka left him for the deep roads. I suspected the royal cellars would find themselves short a good number of bottles by morning.

"How do you deal with it, then?"

"I drink more."

"Ah," Nathaniel actually smiled at this. "There's the Oghren we know and love."

"Yeah, well, keep your pants where I can see them. I like you. Just not in that way." At this we all laughed. That was a good thing, too since the door opened not a moment later. I looked up to see Shianni leading half a dozen elves in. Dressed in simple leather armor they grinned from ear to ear. Walking in on us looking miserable wouldn't reassure them or dissuade the rumors of Wardens as a bunch of 'cheerless fanatics with a deathwish,' as I'd been told people saw us.

I stood up to greet them. "I hear you may be interested in joining us?" They nodded, mutely, staring as though we were the archdemon itself. "Please, we're not a bunch of stuck-up knights. Unless you're all secretly well-disguised genlocks there's no reason to be nervous around us." _Plenty of reason to be nervous_, I thought. Just, not from any of us specifically. I introduced myself and the others, making sure to use first names only to stress the informality of our order. Sitting back down I said, "so, tell me. Why do you want to be Wardens?"

One of the women stepped forward. She had two daggers on her hips, and a bow on her back. "Rose," she said by way of introduction. "I saw what the darkspawn did to this city. I was here when you passed through the Alienage. My father wouldn't let me come out to help so I watched from my bedroom window. My sister, she didn't make it. I'll gladly give my life so no parent has to cry over their child as mine did over her." I nodded and thanked her. It was as good a reason as any had to join. Definitely more noble than my own 'I don't want to get hung or sent to prison' reasoning had been.

The others stepped forward, one by one, to give similar stories. All had seen us fighting the darkspawn in the Alienage during the siege of Denerim. One man, who introduced himself as Cormac and carried a large two handed sword, told us we had looked 'fearless.' Nice to know the terror I felt at the time didn't show on the surface, I suppose. "Look," he finally said, "we know it's dangerous. People talk, word gets around. Plenty of folks go off to join the Wardens and are never heard from again. No one's ever seen an old Warden. We're all willing to take the risk."

"Fair enough," I said, just happy that I wouldn't need to dance around warning them that the joining could be fatal. "Would you be willing to spar with some of us so we can check out your skills?" They all agreed and we rose to go outside where there would be more room.

"Maggie," Shianni stopped me, "can we speak a moment? The other mage, too?" I sent the fighters on ahead with instructions that at least one stay out at a time to watch the recruits and report back to me. Once they had left I gave Shianni a questioning glance. "There is one more person I'd like you to speak with." Turning to the back of the house she called out, "Aidan, the Wardens are here."

A young man, skinny as a rail, came out of a back bedroom. Wild red hair hung over his face, as though he had just fallen out of bed. Once he was within arm's reach of us I knew what Shianni had on her mind. Anders and I exchanged a glance and grinned.

"An apostate?" I asked, without needing to. I could sense the magic from him.

"Not _exactly_," the young man said. "I mean, I am, but I wasn't always." I raised an eyebrow waiting for him to continue. "I was listed among the Circle's dead after the archdemon was killed. In truth, I just decided I didn't really want to go back, and took advantage of the chaos to sneak off."

"Clever," Anders said, admiration in his voice.

"So, why do you want to join the Wardens? If they think you're dead, that's as good as free," I told him. From what I knew, once a mage died the templars destroyed their phylactery just to save space.

"Well, first off, I'm not really cut out for quiet Alienage life. I hate having to hide my magic, I'm sick of sneaking around. I want to be able to _use_ my power for something. Killing darkspawn is as good a use as any. Better than most." I could understand that. He went on. "But, I think that hiding may not even be an option for much longer. A man fell off his roof two weeks ago, he'd been doing repairs. His injuries were serious and, without thinking, I healed him. I said he was only stunned, but people are starting to whisper." He sighed. "That's why I'm here, Shianni has a secret room under the house where I've been hiding out, everyone else thinks I left town. I was going to leave in the night and seek you out, but we discovered you'd be in Denerim and it made sense to wait. I was only five and ten or so when you left to join, not old enough for anyone to actually tell me anything, but I remember overhearing some of the senior enchanters wondering aloud if you would survive the Joining. I know it's risky, but I'll pick that over going back to the cage." I should groan over the most poorly-kept secret in Thedas again, but I'd long since given that up. I could understand his mindset easily enough.

"What do you specialize in?"

"A bit of everything. I can do some healing, a bit of primal, I'm best with hexes and wards, though."

"Have you been through the Harrowing?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "They told me I would right after the battle. A lot of apprentices took part since there were so few mages, thanks to Uldred's mess."

"Do you really care about the Harrowing?" Anders whispered to me.

"Not really," I whispered back.

"You _are_ predictable," he said, smiling.

I laughed at that, Aidan and Shianni looking on with curiosity over our whispered exchanged. "I'm sorry, Anders was remarking on how predictable he finds me. You'd be welcome among us, Aidan." The young elf breathed an audible sigh of relief. "I should warn you, though, there may be added… complications." Gesturing to the table, we sat down and Anders dug through his pockets. He finally removed the pamphlet we'd taken off the 'bandits' on our way to Denerim, handing it over.

"This is insane," Aidan remarked after reading it. "The magisters _became_ darkspawn, you fight darkspawn. The comparison makes no sense. Saying it's because you're both mages, well, they may as well say it's because you're both humans. And what is _with_ the picture?"

"Yeah, tell me about it. My hair causes me enough problems without having to worry about styling it around horns." He laughed at this. "We all agree, for whatever that may be worth, but I didn't want you walking into this blindly."

"Thank you for the warning," he replied. "It doesn't change my mind, but I do appreciate it. I just hope I don't cause added trouble for you by joining your ranks."

"I think she'd almost enjoy it if you did," Anders snickered. "She recruited me right out from under the templar's noses! My Maggie has a soft spot for anyone chafing under the yoke of the Chantry." I couldn't help but notice the possessive phrasing Anders used. Shianni did as well, casting me a knowing glance.

"Will he be safe here until we leave Denerim?" I asked her. "We have a couple coaches to use, we're heading home the morning after tomorrow, very early." She said it wouldn't be a problem and Aidan, thanking us profusely, returned to the back room so he could pack and get ready. "Wait," I called, reaching into my purse. Handing over a couple silvers I instructed him to get a tent and bedroll. "It doesn't matter how bad, we can give you something nicer once we return to the keep. Just so you're not sleeping in the dirt on the trip there."

Shianni snatched the coins from him. "Cousin, you are staying put until you leave Denerim for good. _I'll_ find you a tent." _That explains the hair_, I thought to myself. It was the same vivid shade as hers. Also explained why a Bann would be willing to risk a fugitive from Chantry law hiding in her home. I was now even more nervous about his odds. If the worst happened I couldn't avoid Shianni forever, and she'd certainly ask. He retreated once again and we walked outside to join the others.

"_Someone_ has a thing for blonds," Shianni whispered quietly as we stood watching the elves and Wardens spar. She looked over at Anders, who was speaking to Nathaniel about something and gesturing at one of the fighters. "Not bad at all," she said, before adding "you know, for a human."

"Are we that obvious?"

"You might as well be wearing signs. Just make sure I get invited to the wedding."

"A bit premature for that," I protested.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," she laughed. After a pause she added "And thanks, for Aidan."

"You don't have to thank me," I replied. "If he managed to survive that fight with the archdemon he deserves to stand with us as much as anyone. I can't believe they brought him, though, as young as he was. He's just barely old enough now for me to even consider recruiting him."

"I couldn't, either, but I was thrilled when he turned up on my doorstep a couple days later. I can't believe he remembered the way home, Aidan had been seven when they took him away. I almost didn't recognize him." The insular society of elves, even within the cities, meant they usually came to the tower slightly older than humans.

"I'll do my best to keep him safe," I told her, wishing I could promise more.

"That's all I can ask," she said. "Is the Circle really so bad?"

"It's not freedom. For me, that's bad enough, no matter how much luxury they fill it with." Our conversation was cut short by the approach of the others. "The verdict?" I asked.

"They're not bad," Oghren said simply. I nodded.

"So, everyone, then?" They all nodded in agreement. "That'll give us seven. Pretty good!"

"Seven?" Nathaniel asked. I nodded, promising to explain later. Gathering our recruits up I told them when we would be leaving, and to bring everything they would want to have in Amaranthine.

"Think on this carefully, once we arrive in Amaranthine there is no turning back. Being a Warden is a lifelong calling."

With that we headed back to the palace. I explained Shianni's cousin to everyone while we walked. Nathaniel cautioned me not to provoke the Chantry, but Oghren agreed that anyone who fought the archdemon and lived belonged with us. I also swore them to secrecy, at least until we were headed home. The last thing we needed was a group of templars descending on the Alienage for our newest recruit before we could sneak him out.

"I had a thought," Anders said as we walked through the darkened market district.

"I hope it wasn't too painful for you," Nathaniel poked.

"Har har. I'm serious." He made a face. "So, on the way here, the coaches were unmarked, the troops were unmarked, and when we were attacked Maggie was lying down in our coach, napping."

"And?" Oghren asked.

"And we didn't even know we would be leaving until the day before. How did they know we'd be there?"

"I hate to admit it," Nathaniel said, "but he has a point."

"That letter we never got would have had the dates in it," Sigrun mused, "maybe even the travel plans themselves."

"That's one sodding impressive coincidence," Oghren said. "Letter goes missing telling us when we leave, and we get ambushed on the way."

"For once I wish I was just being needlessly paranoid," I said. "I'll ask Alistair how much information was in the missing letter tomorrow." I sighed.

"Should we get an escort back?" Sigrun asked.

"No, I don't think so. Odds are most of us will take turns walking. The coaches won't hold six each, plus everything the recruits want to bring with them." Turning the discussion back to the recruits Nathaniel asked how quickly I intended to put them through the joining. "Right away," I answered. "Before they get assigned quarters, at least. I don't want to give someone a room and then…"

"Aye," Oghren agreed from next to me. "If one doesn't make it seeing the empty bedroom would just make things worse on the others."

"My thoughts exactly," I agreed.

Once we returned I hunted Oghren down, in the wine cellars as I had expected. Sitting on a box I turned to him. "You're a good man, Oghren."

"What's this? Bored with the mage already? You finally notice I'm just the right height to give a human gal a real good time?"

"Wouldn't you wish?" I teased back. "I just wanted to thank you. I think what you told Nathaniel helped."

Oghren shrugged. "He's a good kid. He shouldn't keep torturing himself over that business with his father."

"This from the man who told him 'everyone needs daddy issues'?"

"What can I say? Anyone with the stones to walk into the palace with their head high even after their family's been outcast deserves a break."

I agreed and wished him a good night.

Back in my room, I tried on my old dress. As expected I couldn't manage the buttons. "Blast," I muttered, tossing it on the floor and trying a few others, with similar results.

"Your _formalwear _has griffins on it, Maggie." Anders said glancing up from behind a book. I grabbed another, pulling it over my head, where it continued to fall straight down to my feet. No amount of tightening the laces on that would make it fit. The next wouldn't even fit over my hips.

"And?"

"That's… strange." He laughed. "You do realize they won't come back no matter how much you hope and pray, right?"

I made a face at him while fumbling with the laces of a green dress. "Maker, how _old_ is this thing?" Everyone wore Orlesian fashion, or at the very least fashion that had a heavy Orlesian hand, these days. Even peasant women had adopted the fitted Orlesian skirts. I barely paid attention to fashion since I always wore robes, but I knew that much. This dress was pure Ferelden, with its full skirt and exposed shoulders, like something out of an antique painting. But it fit, which is more than I could say about the others, even if it had sat in storage since before the occupation.

Anders looked up. "I'm not exactly an expert in noble fashion. Be glad you don't have to wear the ridiculous getup I'm stuck with."

I sat on the floor surrounded by a puddle of crinkly green silk. "How bad is it?"

"It's… normal. Pants and some kind of shirt, I just let Nathaniel tell me what to wear. He knows about that sort of thing, I don't. I feel funny not wearing my robes." I nodded, understanding completely. I felt like I should be ordering people to fetch me things in this getup.

"Eventually I stopped dressing up completely and started going to all the royal functions in robes," I confided. "Very shocking of me, I know. How do I look?" I stood up and spun around.

"Don't ask me," he protested, not actually paying much attention to me.

"Why not?"

"I'm no judge. I say you're beautiful even when you're covered in darkspawn blood."

"You do not."

"Well, not _out loud_. Trust me, though, I'm thinking it. Andraste's knickers, please don't turn into one of those women who always ask how they look."

"Humor me," I told him. "What are you thinking now, then?"

Anders sighed, setting his book aside and turning to me. He blinked, staring at me. "Well?" I demanded. "I don't want to walk in tomorrow and have everyone laughing at me."

After a moment Anders spoke. "We need to get you out of that thing," he told me. "Now."

"That bad?"

"Actually, quite the opposite," he grinned.


	5. Are you sure you weren’t born a noble?

Nathaniel and I approached the Landsmeet chamber slowly. I'd begged him to come with me since no one had thought to brief me on the protocol.

"You've been to one before," he had protested.

"Yes, and it ended with me nearly beheading the Teyrn of Gwaren and then forcibly recruiting him into the Wardens." He agreed if only because I threatened to make this a repeat of that event just so I wouldn't have to go alone again. I suspect naming people who I might target didn't hurt, either. I'm sure he realized I wasn't serious. Hopefully.

"Go over and tell the man at the door who you are," he whispered.

"Margaret, Commander of the Grey, here representing Amaranthine," I told the liveried man at the door. I refused to call myself Arlessa.

He opened the door and walked forward, I followed, but Nathaniel held my arm. "All hail Margaret! Commander of the Grey and Arlessa of Amaranthine!" his voice boomed across the chamber, I jumped back in shock.

Nathaniel and I took our places below the banner depicting a brown bear, the heraldry of the arling. Another had been hung above it, depicting a griffin. "You didn't tell me he would do that," I whined quietly.

"What did you think his job was?"

"I don't know… to check a list and make sure I belonged here?" Nathaniel laughed. We were both in our battle gear, at my insistence. Loghain had told me he wore his armor everywhere because he wanted people to remember him for what he was, a fighter, not what he had been elevated to as a result. Nathaniel agreed with that, also happy he wouldn't have to walk in playing the noble, so he stood in leathers and I in my robes.

Teyrn Cousland was announced next, and he soon took his seat next to us, under the Highever banner. "Nathaniel," he said, eyebrows raised.

"Fergus," Nathaniel replied. "For whatever it may be worth, I am deeply sorry for what my father did to your family."

Fergus shrugged. "From what I know, you were completely uninvolved. The apology is appreciated, but unnecessary. My sister tells me you're with the Wardens now?"

"I am," he replied.

"I made him come," I told Fergus. "I have no idea how these things work." He laughed at that. "I owe you thanks," I added. "The workmen you sent from Highever have been a huge help to us."

"I'm glad I could assist. We all owe the Wardens a great debt. I think too many here would be happier forgetting that."

The last few people trickled in. I noticed Bann Teagan nearby and moved to stand and wave to him, but Nathaniel held my arm. "You're not in the marketplace, Maggie," he admonished me. I smoothed my robes and nodded in Teagan's direction instead.

"See, this is why I needed you here. I don't need everyone thinking the Wardens are led by a provincial oaf."

Eventually Alistair was announced and we all stood. He took the throne, a heavy gold crown on his head. At that point it seemed chaos broke out. Everyone around us began to shout, at him and each other. I looked around wondering the cause for the eruption but Nathaniel just shook his head. "This is normal." Waving was impolite but howling like a bunch of caged animals was just fine? I would never understand this.

Alistair looked around and raised a hand. "Highever," he said after silence descended. Fergus stepped to the rail and said something about trade with the Free Marshes. In favor of, from what I gathered.

Alistair called to see if anyone seconded. Nathaniel jabbed me in the side. "It would be good for us," he whispered. "Amaranthine seconds," I called. Alistair asked if anyone opposed, and when the room was silent, he declared the measure passed. Fergus clapped me on the shoulder in thanks.

The afternoon continued like this, boring enough to make watching grass grow a viable alternative. As soon as something was decided the yelling would begin until Alistair picked someone from the crowd. Most measures passed without opposition. When there was opposition people argued and then we all voted. "Why did you vote for that," Nathaniel asked me after I agreed with a measure about, I don't know, fur exports or something.

"Teagan is my friend," I told him. "I know he wouldn't introduce something if it was bad for Ferelden."

"So that's how you're deciding? If you don't know anything about it you just vote with your friends?" I shrugged. "Are you sure you weren't born a noble?" I raised a finger in warning to him and we both chuckled.

The Crown introduced a measure to pass a special tax to aid Amaranthine in their rebuilding. I moved to second but Nathaniel held me back. "You don't want to look too self-serving," he warned. Rainesfere seconded, and I nodded to Teagan again in thanks. It passed unopposed and I sighed with relief.

The Chantry was recognized and a hum went through the room. "Not normal?" I asked. Nathaniel and Fergus both shook their heads.

"The Chantry proposes a measure," the Grand Cleric said. "We would like to ensure _all_ mages within Ferelden, regardless of any special status they may old, are kept under observation by templars or branded apostates and treated accordingly." Bann Ceorlic, that bastard, seconded.

"Opposed?" Alistair asked, looking at me.

"Amaranthine opposes," I all but shouted. "This is a violation of the ancient treaties signed with the Grey Wardens."

"Those treaties predate the Chantry," the Grand Cleric countered. "Had we known what the Wardens would do with their power we would never have signed them."

"What we would do!?" I cried. "What have we done, besides ending the blights again and again?" I shook my head. "My oath to the Wardens is quite clear. I _cannot_ allow outside observers to become privy to Warden secrets. I would have to order all mages, including myself, to leave Ferelden immediately for reassignment elsewhere _at the very least_. In all likelihood Weisshaupt would just disband the order entirely within the nation and send us all away, given that we cannot function without the protection of our treaties."

"I agree," Bann Teagan called out. "The Wardens have saved us all, time and again. We have no reason to disrespect them like this."

"Your vendetta would leave us vulnerable to another blight!" Arl Wulff agreed.

"We all _know_ the danger of mages," Bann Alfstanna countered. "My brother is a templar, he has told me stories of the evil they are capable of. Can we pretend they become _less_ dangerous when given additional responsibilities and additional power?"

"I cannot _believe _any of us would stomach a measure that would effectively ban the Hero of Ferelden from this nation," Bann Shianni shouted. "I'm disgusted by this. We owe her our lives!"

Alistair called for a vote. I watched the room carefully. Fergus, Teagan, Wulff, Shianni, and the crown voted with me, as well as Bryland of South Reach. Ceorlic, Sighard of Dragon's Peak, and Alfstanna of Waking Seas stood with the Chantry. Seven to four. I closed my eyes, saying a prayer of gratitude to the Maker.

"Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him," the Grand Cleric shouted in protest when she realized she had lost. "You have betrayed the teachings of Andraste! The chaos in Amaranthine is only the beginning!"

"Someday Ferelden may become a nation that betrays her oaths," Alistair said to her, "but not today."

Several smaller measures were introduced. I voted whenever Nathaniel jabbed me in the arm, paying absolutely no attention to the proceedings. Finally, Alistair dismissed us, reminding everyone to attend the ball that evening.

We sat back as the room cleared out. "Do you really think Weisshaupt would pull us from Ferelden if this had passed?"

"They're big on grand gestures," I said. "I think it would be viewed as a slap in the face of the order after what we've done, especially since I'm a mage. The First Warden knows I'm basically _the _symbol for the order here, as much as I wish I could deny it. Saying Ferelden doesn't trust _me_ would look like saying they don't trust _any_ of us." I pushed my hair behind my ears. "I don't know, though. They might just make you commander, and send all the mages to another country. Even that, though," I shrugged. "I'm not exactly experienced enough to be commander, not really. I got it partly because I'm already famous, and partly because I was acting as commander throughout the blight anyways. Without either of those they may send someone from another country to take charge."

"You don't think they'd go along with it to keep peace?"

"Templars among the Wardens?" I laughed. "Outsiders watching the Joining, and listening in as we explain secrets to new recruits?"

"No, I don't suppose they would stand for that," he agreed.

"Even if _they_ did, _I_ wouldn't. I'd leave on my own."

"You're kidding," he said. "_You_ would abandon the Wardens? A literal death sentence didn't push you away from them and a few templars would?"

"Maker, no. I'd just go join them elsewhere. I'm sure some other country would be happy to have me among their ranks, it might even be nice to just be Warden Maggie again, not the Commander and Arlessa. I spent too many years living as a prisoner; I won't go back to that." We lapsed into silence. A few nobles came over to either thank me for some supporting vote, or offer their sympathy over the damage in Amaranthine. "You know Anders got quite upset with me on the way here," I said when everyone else had filtered out.

"Oh?"

"I told Alistair to make you the Arl, to rewrite the paperwork so it went to the highest ranking non-mage among the Ferelden Wardens."

"You really think a soul alive would agree to that, Maggie?"

"I thought it was a good compromise. I guess I forget how petty people are. _That _wasn't why he was mad, though. Anders told me I was letting the Chantry send me running scared. _That's_ what got him mad."

"That doesn't sound like something he would say," Nathaniel said. "It sounds like-"

"Me?" I finished. "Justice would be so proud." We both chuckled at that.

"Let's get out of here before someone accidentally locks us in," he said, rising to his feet.

Once we left the public areas of the palace I hunted Alistair down. He was in his office, sitting half-hidden behind a stack of paper. "This," I announced, throwing myself into a chair opposite him, "is absolute garbage." I helped myself to some of the cheese and bread on his desk.

"Just be glad it didn't pass," he said, setting down a pen.

"Was there any chance of that, really?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Who knows? I don't understand why half the nobles vote the way they do on a good day. Why did you bring Nathaniel with you, of all people? You know how many questions I got about a Howe being present? People were furious."

_All right, I guess that settled things about making him the Arl,_ I thought."I needed someone who knew how those things worked. He's not a Howe any more; he's a Warden, even if they still want to blame him for his father. I'm glad the Couslands don't seem to, though. You'd think if the two people who lost more than anyone both realize it wasn't his fault everyone else would just follow suit." Alistair just shrugged. "But, I wanted to tell you, something was pointed out to me last night."

"Oh?"

"How would those fanatics have even known we would be on that road, at that time, to attack? I didn't even know we were leaving until the day before, when you arrived, and at the time of the ambush I was laying down napping. They wouldn't have seen me through the window."

Alistair was silent for a moment before rising to his feet. He walked to the door and I could hear him ordering a guard to find Arl Eamon 'now.'

Sitting back down he said "I should have realized that."

"You and me both," I agreed. "Thank the Maker for the rest of the Wardens, the four of them figured it out."

Eamon arrived looking harried and asked what was wrong. Alistair explained the missing letter, our attack on the way, and the connection that had been pointed out to me about it.

"Where were you when you were attacked?" he finally asked after mulling over the situation for a moment.

"Dragon's Peak," I answered, "or very close to the border of it."

"And Bann Sighard voted with the Chantry today," he said quickly. I hadn't even made that connection.

"What should I do?" I asked Eamon.

"For now? Nothing," he answered quickly. "I'm going to look into that messenger's background, and the people he was with when he died. If I find anything out I'll let you know." He sighed. "It may be nothing. The Landsmeet isn't a secret, and as Arlessa you would be expected to attend. That is the main road between Amaranthine and Denerim, they may have just made a guess that you'd be passing through. Who else but someone of stature would have two coaches and mounted guards?"

I nodded, remembering once again I was 'someone of stature,' and he excused himself, leaving me with the king again.

"You nervous?" I asked him.

"For you, yes. This isn't good news."

"I meant about tonight, actually." Alistair laughed at that.

"Not really," he said, but quickly corrected himself. "Maybe a little."

"Why?" I asked him. "Because of her? Or how people will respond?"

"Neither, really. Just… _married._ Maker's breath, I don't know how to be a husband."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," I assured him. "Do you love her?"

"Do you love Anders?" he countered.

"Touché," I admitted. "Not exactly the same thing, though. I'm just too paranoid to ever admit anything. The tower doesn't exactly prepare you for a normal life outside of it. Not that my life is normal, but you know what I mean. _Relationships_, all that. I'm fine with the etiquette of a meaningless tryst, anything more serious and I have no clue what I should be doing or saying."

"Oh, and the Chantry does a fine job of that," he said, making a face at me.

I made a face right back. "I just wondered if this is one of those arranged things." I only knew a bit of how nobles married, from what Nathaniel had told me. It seemed like strategic alliances were more important than actual affection, and someone from the second-highest ranked family in Ferelden would certainly be strategic.

"Yes and no," he said. "I picked her because I like her, and she likes me, but the selection was limited to women of appropriate noble blood. I don't think I've known her long enough to say I _love _her," he admitted. "I mean, I like her. I like her a lot more than the other nobles I've been introduced to over the last year. I'm pretty sure I _could _love her, eventually. She's funny, and very nice. Not one of those snobbish delicate flower types. She knew Duncan," he added. Leave it to Alistair to include that in someone's list of good qualities. I raised an eyebrow. "He was in Highever not long before the attack, and tried to recruit her. Her father wouldn't allow it. She was rather upset by that, I guess being a Warden had been one of her secret lifelong dreams."

"I like her already just for that!"

"I figured you would," he said. "Anyways, Duncan left to get you from the tower, with plans to return for one of her father's knights after. I guess he wanted to get you right after your Harrowing before they assigned you as a mentor to someone or you ended up trying to escape." I grinned at that. They can't make you a tranquil once you've passed the harrowing, so I had been biding my time to try and get out. I'm sure half the senior enchanters knew it, too.

I nodded. He wouldn't have been able to return, we'd gotten word of the attack on Highever the day I left the tower. Duncan hadn't mentioned knowing the people there but then, why would he have? I wouldn't have been able to find Highever on a map at the time. "Your reputation preceded you, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess Duncan said he had to get to the tower quickly and recruit a 'powerful but rebellious mage' the First Enchanter recommended before she 'got herself into any more trouble.'" I winced. The two weeks leading up to my Harrowing had been spent on cleaning detail after a small incident involving me, a handsome apprentice, a bottle of Antivan brandy we stole from one of the senior enchanters, and an empty storeroom when we both should have been in our healing class. I guess Irving didn't gloss over my reputation in his recommendation to Duncan. "I don't even think I want to know what you did."

"Oh, it wasn't _that_ bad," I protested, telling him in sparse detail. Alistair just shook his head.

"Theft and cutting class?" I shrugged. "Well, for you, I guess that's not bad. Not on the level of personally earning the animosity of the Grand Cleric or anything. I figure whatever else you were up to was allowed or they would have made you a tranquil years ago."

"Are you implying something unsavory about my morals, your majesty," I mocked.

He laughed. "You know Elissa is quite keen to meet you. When I told her that _The_ Warden was the mage Duncan left to recruit she was full of questions. I don't think she'd ever met a mage in person."

"I'm afraid I'll disappoint, if that's the case," I admitted. "People always expect me to float into the room on a magic cloud or something." Curiosity burning away I finally asked. "How did she…" I let my words trail off, realizing asking how his intended survived an attack that killed her family seemed a bit crass, even for me.

"Elissa fought her way through the castle and snuck out a secret entrance with her mabari. Her father was hurt but her mother stayed behind to buy her time. They made her leave, so she could warn Fergus and tell the king."

"Maker's breath," I gasped. I couldn't even fathom how horrible it must have been. He nodded.

"She heard about Ostagar on her way down there, and just hid out until the blight ended. Mostly helping refugees. When Fergus reappeared she came out of hiding to join him."

"She must be quite formidable," I said. "A shame we didn't meet up with her during the blight, someone with those skills would have been a real asset."

"I told her the same thing. She said she toyed with the idea of seeking us out, but never quite managed. I think, since she was also being hunted, Elissa felt she would have been an added liability for us."

"Like that ever stopped me from taking someone on," I laughed. "If anything it's a bonus!"

"See, that," Alistair said, "that right there is exactly why you're always getting into trouble." He laughed. "Did anything we found fit you?" I winced.

"One of the dresses did. I swear, through, it's fifty years old if it's a day. I'm going to have people telling me I look like old paintings of their grandmother!" He snorted.

"I think people expect you to be clueless about fashion," Alistair admitted. "No one thinks a seasoned warrior will also be a fashion plate, and you did wear mage's robes to more than a few royal functions. Just get a new dress while you're here for next time."

"I should get one at home," I said. "It would look better if I used a dressmaker in Amaranthine. Besides, I need to leave early tomorrow."

"Oh? You can't stay a few days?" He sounded disappointed.

"I'd love to, but duty calls. We've got seven potential wardens to put through the joining."

"Seven!" Alistair exclaimed. "You just got here last night. That was fast!"

"Shianni," I said by way of explanation. "She knew of some elves that were interested, and broached the subject over dinner. I dragged everyone out to meet them and spar a few rounds last night."

"Damn!" Alistair cursed. I gave him a curious glance. "I wanted to be the first! A few of the knights here have been asking if they could join ever since they heard you would be in town. Eamon wasn't thrilled about diminishing our numbers, but I figured you could use them more. Not a bad lot, once you browbeat that knightly attitude out of them."

"Even better," I said. "You know I'm hurting for numbers, and leaving with ten volunteers won't mean I end up with ten wardens." My voice dropped. "I'm nervous about that, but all the elves seemed to have a good idea of the risk, they told me as much."

"Same with my men," Alistair told me.

"Well, have word sent to them to be ready early tomorrow. I'll trust your word that they're suitable. We won't all fit in the coaches, so some are going to walk. I figure we'll shift on and off."

"I'll get you a couple big wagons instead," Alistair told me. "Open, so you can keep an eye on the road." I thanked him and he brushed it off. I suppose being King, even king of a poor nation, made things like wagons seem paltry. "You know, I had no idea of the risks at my Joining," Alistair said. "I suspected you didn't, either, from the questions you asked before yours. Are we just the least-informed people in Thedas?"

"I didn't know until Daveth died," I agreed. "But then, you were in the Chantry and I was in the Circle. Neither are gossip hotbeds. Well, _outside_ gossip, at least." He nodded. "Hey," I added. "Do you know what people think of the Wardens?"

"Heroes?" Alistair suggested. "Fierce warriors?"

I laughed. "The exact wording I was told," I began, "is that most of Thedas view Wardens as 'cheerless fanatics with a deathwish.' Both Nathaniel and Anders told me that. Oghren said people see us as grim stick in the muds."

"That would explain your difficulty finding recruits," Alistair admitted with a shake of his head.

"You know!" I laughed. "I had no idea; everyone I'd met as Ostagar seemed so _fun_."

"Maggie, your version of _fun_ and the version employed by most people have very little in common. Most people don't consider a day spent slaughtering things fun, after all. Or telling stories and jokes about all the things that you've killed after."

"They just don't know what they're missing," I insisted, although he was completely right. The one time I dared to tell my story about spitting on the archdemon at a party in Denerim, something I personally considered one of the funniest things I'd ever done, had gone over about as well as admitting I was secretly an Orlesian Chevalier. "Oh well, I suppose I should put my deathwish on hold for a while so I can get ready to look like a complete fool tonight."

"Try and not cause any political incidents between here and your room," Alistair said as I left.

Anders was lounging on the bed when I returned, nose buried in a book. He looked up when I entered, setting the text aside. "I heard about the Landsmeet, how are you doing?"

I sat next to him. "It didn't pass, but I'm nervous anyways. I'm sure they'll try something else. The Grand Cleric isn't going to just give up and ignore us." I told him about Eamon's theory on how we were ambushed. Anders didn't look like he believed it. "He's checking into everything anyways, assuming the worst. That's how Eamon is. He tells you 'it may be nothing,' and then says 'but I'm going to make sure it's not any number of horrifying other things which I will now detail for you just to be safe.' That's why he's so good at his job."

Anders took my hand, tracing his fingers over the lines of my palm. "Try not to become obsessed. We can't stop them from plotting, and we're usually pretty good at dealing with people once they've tried something." I laughed. "What's the worst that could happen?" he added, "they get their way, and we get to see the Tevinter Imperium for ourselves! Look on the bright side."

"You would go with me? If I had to leave Ferelden?"

"Maker's breath," he replied, sounding exasperated. "Of _course_ I would go with you. Did you honestly think I wouldn't?" When I didn't respond fast enough he sighed. "You're going to actually make me say it, aren't you? You're an evil woman." I looked over at him in confusion. Anders flopped back on the bed, pulling a pillow over his face to muffle a groan and kicking his legs. "Fine," he said, tossing the pillow aside and casting me a murderous glare. "I love you, you idiot. Happy now, you've made me say it out loud without the threat of imminent death inspiring me. How you didn't know already I have no idea."

I had never seen Anders look so… enraged. Comparing his grim expression with his words I found myself involuntarily suppressing a giggle.

"See! This is why I didn't say it. _This _is exactly what I was afraid of."

"No, it's not that," I insisted, still giggling. "You just look so angry. You _never_ look angry, unless you're talking about the Circle!"

"And that's all you have to say?"

I fell back onto the bed so we were eye to eye. "Obviously I love you, _you idiot_," I tossed his own words back to him. "I guess I'm not any fonder of saying it than you are. And I figured it was fairly obvious as well. Half of Ferelden seems to know or suspect."

Anders relaxed, finally smiling. "Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, can we skip the party and stay here?" He gestured to the bed, before sweeping his hand to the desk, "Or maybe there, or _there_," he added, pointing to the table.

"And you say I'm evil?" I laughed. "Come on, we need to go and look normal and smile and cheer for Alistair's engagement and convince people we're not evil abominations waiting to happen."

"Well, I know _I'm_ not, but then, I'm only barely a maleficar, not even a blood mage. And even that's your fault. You, on the other hand…"

I hit him with a pillow. "Get dressed."

"Please tell me I don't look like a complete imbecile." Anders spun around, wearing the noble garb Nathaniel had picked out for him. _Maker's breath_, I thought to myself, color rising in my face, _those pants are very… tight._ Anders caught a glimpse of my expression and laughed. "Or maybe I should dress like this more often?" he asked, smiling.

I turned to finish getting ready, if I spent any more time looking at him in those pants we would miss the party completely. He helped me with the back laces of the gown after I'd done up the front ones. I finally smeared on just enough makeup to look like a normal adult and clipped my hair back with an elaborate clasp Leliana had given me. It hid a tiny dagger and didn't involve me having to worry about doing anything as elaborate as braids. Another knife went into the bodice of my dress, and a third tucked into the top of my stockings. Anders watched with curiosity.

"Expecting trouble?"

"When am I not?"

"Fair enough," he replied, sliding one of my daggers into the top of his boot. I glanced in the mirror and adjusted my hair.

"I look absurd," I said flatly. "I wish my own dress still fit. Next time we're in Amaranthine I'm having the first dressmaker I find replicate it in my size."

"Griffins and all?" Anders laughed.

"As if you need to ask," I said. "You do know people get drunk at these functions? And visible weapons are barred? Draping myself in griffins is a nice easy way to say 'hey, I kill monsters for a living, so don't get handsy Ser Old Enough To Be My Father.'"

Electricity crackled around Anders' hand. "Will I finally get to shoot lightning at fools?"

"Only if you want us both dead before the sun comes up," I warned him. "They always have templars at these things. Standing around, looking all… templar."

"This is sounding better and better," he griped. "Let's get moving before I hide under the bed and refuse to come out."

Sigrun and Nataniel were standing around in the hall, waiting for Oghren who was cursing from the other side of his door. Nathaniel looked completely comfortable in his fine clothing, which came as no shock to me. Sigrun kept spinning around to make her skirt flare out and I was briefly jealous. They had modern clothing cut to fit a dwarf, but not me?

Finally Oghren joined us, pulling on his silk sleeves with annoyance. "Open bar," I reminded him, which seemed to turn his mood around.

"You know, my grandmother used to wear a dress _just like_ that," Nathaniel commented to me as we walked to the ballroom.

* * *

_A/N: So glad everyone seems to be enjoying the new direction I'm going with this in the post-game timeline. :) _

_Thanks to WarriorDrgnMage for suggesting I work in a bit about how Elissa Cousland survived, and thanks to everyone who reviews, they totally make my day!_


	6. people expect us to be pretty & delicate

"So is everyone armed?" Sigrun asked in a voice barely above a whisper as we walked down the stairs.

"Dagger in my bodice and my hair clip is one, too. Hopefully it won't be necessary but I like to be prepared."

"One in my boot," Anders added. "Plus, both of us _are_ weapons, technically."

"One in _each_ boot," Nathaniel said.

"Same. But I also have my fists," Oghren said. Upon reflection, I realized that could prove more deadly than I could ever hope to be with a dagger.

"Glad it isn't just me," she said, grinning. "Let me see that clip," she demanded after a moment. I knelt down so she could reach. "Oooh, that's something else. Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift; I suspect the original owner got it in Orlais. She had been a bard there."

"That's enough to make me want to grow my hair longer," she said as we continued on.

We were ushered from the entrance to the front of the room immediately. "Your Majesty, the Grey Wardens," the servant announced before retreating. We all dropped to one knee, as was expected. Duncan had once told me that Wardens bowed to no king, but I figured that was more metaphorical than literal. I wasn't bowing to the _authority_ of the crown, after all, just being polite in public.

Alistair came down from the dais and pulled me to my feet, clapping me on both shoulders, face already ruddy. _Someone got an early start_, I thought, suppressing a grin. "Come on, get up, all of you." He waved someone carrying a tray over and handed us each a glass. Oghren grabbed a second before the waiter could depart. He beckoned the blond woman from the chair near his throne. She smiled and walked over. "This," Alistair said, taking her hand, "is Elissa."

"I'm so glad to finally meet you," I told her. Starting at the end of our line I introduced each of the Wardens. She nodded and repeated each name to commit it to memory.

"And you must be the famous Maggie," she said to me finally. "If you have a moment?" she asked, in a way that sounded as though it wasn't exactly a question. I reminded myself once again that I was in a room full of nobles.

"Of course," I said, promising I would find the others later.

She pulled me off to a table in the corner, sitting down and gesturing to the opposite chair. "I'm glad we have a chance to speak," Elissa admitted, her voice low. "You know the king better than anyone."

"I suppose that's true," I agreed. Eamon or Teagan knew him from his childhood, and over the last couple years, but their relationships were closer to that of extended family than friends.

"Could you tell me, is he really how he seems?"

"How does he seem?" I asked, not understanding her.

"He's always so… lighthearted. Silly, kind, sweet." She shrugged. "I expected I'd be married off to some boring noble one day, most likely far too old for me. He seems too good to be true."

"No, that's really him. I mean, he can be serious when the situation demands it, and being on the receiving end of Alistair's temper isn't an experience I'd look forward to repeating, but what you see is his real personality." I could see relief in her eyes. "Keep in mind," I reminded her, "he wasn't raised for this. He never had to deal with intrigues or politics until the blight started. I don't think he'd be able to put on a false personality for show if he tried."

Elissa leaned back, considering my words. Alistair had told me she wasn't one of those 'delicate flower' types, but looking at her I was reminded of nothing more than a porcelain doll, all perfect skin and enormous blue eyes. Briefly I wondered if it made life easier to look so disturbingly perfect, or harder. Her inner strength was more than obvious by the intelligent shine of her eyes, but I had a hard time picturing her wielding a blade. I suppose that added element of surprise made her an even more effective fighter. "So in all that time," she finally said, "you and he never…"

I shook my head. "He's like a brother to me," I replied. I didn't _have_ a brother for comparison, but it seemed apt enough. My relationship with Alistair had always been more like what I had with Jowan growing up, the desire for anything else simply never happened.

"Really? But he's so handsome!"

"Well, remember, when I met him he told me he had trained to be a templar. That alone was enough to keep me on guard around him for weeks. As much as he was around me, being a mage. By the time both of us realized the other wasn't secretly wishing them dead… I suppose we knew each other well enough to realize how poor a match we would be as anything but friends."

"But you're such good friends, everyone knows that." I could see where she was going with this, and I didn't blame her. Even when I was involved with Zevran there were always whispers that the king and I were more than friends and comrades in arms. This was her way of making sure she wouldn't have to compete for her husband's affection.

"We are," I agreed. "But that's all we've ever been: friends. As for anything else, well, I think I'm too much of a troublemaker at heart to ever be of interest to Alistair in that way, and he's not enough of a troublemaker to be of interest to me."

She giggled at that. "He said something similar." I raised an eyebrow, but she didn't elaborate. Someone slammed a glass down with unusual force behind me. Turning around, I saw the Grand Cleric glaring at me through narrowed eyes from a couple tables away. She was too far to hear our conversation over the musicians and partygoers, so it must have been my general presence that earned her ire.

"I don't know if she dislikes you or me more," Elissa confided. "She's been in a snit since I said I wanted the Revered Mother from Highever to perform our wedding. Mostly because, well, the Grand Cleric is a _real bitch_." All right, that settled it, I liked her.

"You won't hear any arguments from me. Did you hear about the Landsmeet?"

"Ridiculous! You don't hear about the Divine making trouble for Wardens in Val Royeaux, I don't know where she got the idea."

"I sometimes wonder if she just doesn't like _me_, mage or not. I'm certainly not the first mage warden, there were a couple who died at Ostagar. No idea why she's against me, though. I've never even spoken to the woman."

"That could be it, you know. She expects everyone to pay tribute to her. She dallies a bit too much in politics, wants people to act like she's a noble. My father always said the Chantry hates how little power they have here compared to other countries."

"Well, what could they expect," I said. "After they practically gave our country to Orlais, and then fought to keep us under their control? It'll be a long time before anyone forgets that."

"I'm surprised to hear you're a student of history." Elissa said. "I figured the Circle would teach nothing but magic."

"Oh no," I assured her. "History, mathematics, literature, even dance, all so we can be proper well rounded ladies and gentlemen. Never could figure out _why_ they cared about that, though. They never bothered with etiquette and believe me, things were very different. It's taken me years to even become only this inept at behaving in social situations." I chuckled at that. "But, reading about history was my way of escaping the tower for many years. I might have been there physically but I could imagine I was fighting with the rebellion at River Dane, or the Grey Wardens at Ayesleigh, or anywhere else, actually using my magic for something."

She smiled at that. "It sounds like you're one of the few people lucky enough to see their youthful dreams came true."

I thought about it for a minute. "I suppose you're right, I've honestly never really thought about it. I didn't seek this out, it just… happened. It isn't exactly what I dreamed of. More death, less glory." I shrugged. "Not that I would change my life. I love being a Warden."

Glancing around the room I saw people dancing and Anders involved in some sort of drinking competition with Oghren. It involved cheering and slamming their glasses back onto the table. Sigrun and Nathaniel seemed to be taking bets. To my amazement Anders seemed to be holding his own against the dwarf.

"What's it like?" she asked me suddenly.

"What?"

"Being a mage. I've always been curious."

"Hard to say, it's all I know. I might as well ask you what it's like to be a noble."

"Well, please try. I've never spoken to a mage before, I've always thought it must be wonderful."

"Can I be honest?" I said, realizing there was no way to answer without breaking some of those 'speaking to nobles' rules I'd had drummed into me after the blight ended. She nodded. "In some ways it _is_ wonderful, to have all this power. People say mages are the most powerful creatures in Thedas and, truth is, they're right." She grinned at that. "But, I haven't seen my parents since I was four and I don't even know my real last name or birth date to find them. Even if I wasn't a Warden a normal life and family would never have been available to me. Plenty of people hate me for something I can't help, and many of those who don't still fear me. I can't even go to services at the Chantry in Amaranthine since the Revered Mother will switch verse mid-reading just to remind me that I'm apparently unworthy of the Maker's grace simply for daring to exist." I shrugged and forced a smile. "Sorry, I got a little carried away there; it can be a sore subject. I realize it must seem petty to complain when I'm capable of shooting lightning from my hands with a gesture."

"No," she insisted, "I can sympathize. As much as I wanted to just spar with the guards or go into town in Highever like anyone, I never could because I was a noble. I was born to it, but didn't ask for or want it. I haven't had to deal with the problems you have, but I can certainly understand people judging you and forcing you into a role because of an accident of birth." She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I _begged_ my father to let me go off and join the Wardens when Duncan came to see us. I think I've never cursed being a noble more than I did on that day."

I laughed. "I would tell you it's not too late, but I suspect Alistair would have my head." She joined me in laughter and waved over a servant to refill our drinks.

"I have to thank you," I said after a moment, "for not holding his father's actions against Nathaniel. He's a good man."

She waved her hand. "He wasn't even in Ferelden at the time. I've known him since we were children, Nathaniel's always been a grump, although who wouldn't be with that ass for a father, but he's no monster."

"That's part of why he blames himself," I admitted. "He wonders if he would have been able to stop his father if he was here."

Her face became serious. "You and I both know nothing would have stopped Rendon Howe short of a blade through the chest. I only wish I could have been there to deliver that final blow."

Elissa became quiet. I struggled for something to say, but before I could come up with anything she gasped, gesturing across the room. I looked up; Alistair had joined the drinking game. Alistair couldn't handle his alcohol to save his life. "Right," I said, jumping to my feet.

"Awww," Anders groaned as we rushed over. "The boss is here."

"Hey!" I protested, snatching his drink from him and finishing it myself. "Don't you suddenly 'the boss' me. Maybe I came over to place a bet?" Sigrun looked up at me. "Fifty silvers on Oghren."

"Oh, now that _hurts_," Anders groaned. "Even you vote against me? I should just give up now." He sighed dramatically, swaying on his feet. Tossing an arm around my shoulders Anders nearly knocked me over. From up close it was far more apparent that Oghren would be winning this contest. _Maker's breath, we **just** got here!_

Without thinking I cast a rejuvenation spell on him. It wasn't enough to sober him completely but it would keep him from falling down or getting sick all over the palace ballroom. A templar near the wall snapped to attention when he sensed the magic being used, boring holes into me. I caught his eye and gestured to Anders, mimicking taking a drink. He relaxed a moment later once he summed up the situation. A moment later Anders realized what I had done and groaned in complaint. "We do have quite a few recruits to drag back with us tomorrow; at least a few of us should try and be coherent. That won't happen if you're already falling down now."

"Poor bastards," Sigrun snickered. I looked over at her; judging by how her head rolled on her neck she had clearly been keeping up with the contestants. Nathaniel was trying to shush her and she swatted his hand away. "I'm _kidding_," she insisted. "Wardens'r great. 'S way better than the legion. Killing darkspawn _and _dressing up for parties. Great." I looked at Alistair and shrugged. "Hey," Sigrun asked the king, "I can keep the dress, right?" Anders surreptitiously cast a rejuvenation spell of his own, this time directing it at the dwarven woman. "Awww," Sigrun groaned once she realized he'd done. "I'll get you for that, mage, I was having fun!"

"So start over," I suggested. "Getting drunk is half the fun."

"I'll assume that was an order, Commander," she replied, jumping up to track down another drink.

"What about me?" Anders pouted.

"Hey, Sigrun doesn't send off sparks when she's drunk," I reminded him. "Just watch yourself. And get me one, too."

By the time Anders had returned with our drinks, this time two pints of ale, a small crowd had gathered around our group. Headed by Bann Teagan, they were peppering us with questions about what had happened in Amaranthine. Realizing they wanted something impressive, some tale of legendary adventure, I stood back and let Oghren give them his uniquely epic take on things. His stories always included sound effects, how could I hope to top that?

Oghren went on, talking about our chase after the Architect. "So that sodding bastard tells us his attack on our home was a misunderstanding. And I'm all 'oh yes, A misunderstanding that ends in a heap of dead bodies? I get those sometimes, too' and the commander, she's all 'grrrooowwwrrr DIE DARKSPAWN' which is pretty much how she says hello on a _good_ day, but then this darkspawn starts tellin us how he-"

I lept forward and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Oghren, I don't want to be forced to conscript all these people because you revealed Warden secrets," I warned him in a strained whisper. A few people groaned but a glance from Alistair cut them short.

"Ohhh, yeah, right. I forget that sometimes." He laughed. "Anyways, long story short, he was a tough bastard to kill. I was all 'GRRRWWWWWOOOORRR' and he knocked me flat on my back. And then I was all 'meep!' and then these two ladies were tearing into him, both going 'RAAAWWWRRR!' He was dead before the mage even finished putting me back together. _Hot_." I shook my head. Oghren then tried to entice everyone into toasting to 'battle maidens,' as it put it.

"So they _can_ talk now? It's true?" Teagan looked horrified at the idea.

"Some can, not all. I don't know how common it is yet, we haven't heard of any attacks in the last month or so. I'm planning on checking the Deep Roads when we go to Orzammar soon."

"Maggie says they'll learn to fly next," Sigrun offered, causing several nobles to gasp in fear.

"That was a _joke_," I hastily added. "Maker, can you even imagine? Poor Nathaniel would exhaust himself teaching all of us to become archers! And the mess on the statues…" The wardens all laughed at this but the nobles just shifted uncomfortably.

I rocked on my feet, occasionally glancing at everyone dancing, while Oghren finished the story. As much as I wanted to get away it suddenly seemed very prudent to make sure he didn't accidentally tell half the nobility in Ferelden how to perform the joining, that I wasn't above using blood magic, or something equally disastrous.

Finally, he reached the part where we killed the Mother. Sigrun jumped in to finish, since Oghren was unconscious towards the end of that fight. I caught her eye, wishing I could somehow send her a message not to mention blood magic and she only grinned. "I wish I was a mage," Sigrun was telling the crowd. "Not only did she finish off that broodmother, but she did it _sitting down_!"

"I had a broken leg; it wasn't as though I was relaxing on the floor of the cave!"

"You kept fighting with a broken leg?" Arl Bryland asked.

"Well, my arms were still working, that's all I need to cast a spell" I said. "Not that I had much choice, anyways," I admitted. "Oghren was down, Anders was healing him, and that left just Sigrun and me to finish her off. Those broodmothers are tough even with several people. I'm still surprised we managed with the two of us." I glanced over at him. "You've been in battle before, you know how it is. You get hurt but don't feel it until after. I wouldn't have noticed at all if I hadn't tried to stand up." He nodded with understanding.

"I felt bad for Anders having to straighten the bones out after," Sigrun commented. "When you screamed he looked like he was in more pain than you were."

I could feel Anders wince next to me. We exchanged a glance and nodded. "You know," I told the group, "Nathaniel saved _every single_ civilian at our Keep from a horde of darkspawn." Nathaniel glared at me, I pretended not to notice. "I'm so lucky to have him as my second in command, I don't think I could have done half as much if I'd been forced to stand against an army with only a handful of troops. You should ask him about it."

I turned to walk towards the dance floor, but Nathaniel grabbed my arm. "I _hate_ you," he hissed into my ear.

"You do not, you liar," I whispered back. "Besides, you want to redeem your family name? Get to bragging." He sighed and nodded as Anders grabbed my hand, dragging me away. "It's so nice to see young people still wear the old fashions," I could hear someone say as I was pulled across the room. Instead of heading to the dance floor he kept going until we were in a hallway leading to the kitchens.

Finally stopping, Anders leaned against a wall, eyes closed. "How can you _stand_ this?" he asked me.

"You get used to it," I said. "No, I think they got used to _me_. I lived here for a year without gaining any new stories. People stopped asking."

"This is almost as bad as the tower. Everyone's starting at us; no one will talk to me like I'm normal person. When I got our drinks the waiter looked at me like I was some kind of…" Anders' words trailed off in annoyance as he shoved a loose bit of hair behind his ears.

"legend?" I guessed.

"Ugh, yes." He laughed then. "I suppose you're used to it."

"Doesn't mean I _like_ it," I countered.

"So you've said. I never understood why, until now."

"We can sneak out as soon as Alistair officially announces his engagement. I don't even know why they bother with that, everyone in the room knows already."

"I noticed you got to chat with our future Queen, what's _she_ like?"

"Interesting. You know she almost became a Warden? Her father wouldn't let her, and Duncan didn't push the conscription. He left before the attack on her family- to get me, actually."

"That's surprising. She doesn't look like much of a fighter."

I teased him. "And I do?"

"We're _mages_, people expect us to be pretty and delicate. Yet another evil way we lure the innocent in to our trap."

I laughed at that. "Come on, Ser Pretty and Delicate. I'm sure it'll be another year before I have a chance to dance again."

"Maker's breath," he groaned, already leading me to the dance floor by my hand. "The things I do for you. I drink poison, I heal your broken bones, now _dancing?_ I hope you appreciate it."

"Oh come on, you love a chance to show off. Look at them, we can do much better." He glanced across the dance floor. It was a slow processional dance, barely more than walking in time to the music, and people were moving like they had bricks on their feet.

We stood on the sidelines, waiting for the song to end. Once it did Anders and I took our places on the floor. Hands linked, our feet struck the floor in unison, easily moving through the complex steps of the lively Antivan song. I grinned seeing Nathaniel watching us with surprise written across his face. He had doubted me when I said I knew how to dance. 'Told you' I mouthed.

We remained among the dancers until Alistair and Elissa returned to the dais to formally announce their engagement. I made sure to congratulate them in person, as well as say goodbye since we would be leaving early the following day. Reminding the Wardens to be up on time, Anders and I snuck out of the ballroom.

"All right," he admitted as we approached our room, "that was fun. Once everyone stopped fawning over us."

I laughed but Anders clamped a hand over my mouth before I could say anything more. Gesturing for silence he removed it and pointed forward. The door, which we had shut and locked when we left for the ball, was open. He stopped at the doorway, I darted to the opposite side and our eyes met across the frame. I pulled the knife from my bodice as he reached for the one stashed in his boot. Realizing what we were doing I almost giggled, and I noticed Anders came to the same conclusion, glancing at the blade in his hand with a wry grin and shake of his head.

I cast a spell to shield myself, waited for him to do the same, and gestured for him to stay still. Kicking the door open the rest of the way I kept my hand raised for a moment. When no arrows appeared I crept forward into our room. Eyes adjusting to the dark, I scanned the area. Nothing seemed out of place until… ahh… our trunk in the corner was open. The lid was flipped forward, facing us, and I could see someone crouched behind it, only the very crown of their head visible. They were clearly trying to hide.

"Come out now and I won't hurt you," I said, once I was sure it was only one intruder. They responded with a low chuckle. A large form unfolded itself from behind my trunk, stepping forward. Anders raised his arm, casting a force field. It was a smart move, better to find out who this was than kill them and wonder. A moment later I was doubled over, gasping. Ice moved in my veins.

"Templar," Anders hissed. Suddenly grateful for my paranoia I leapt, dagger in hand, anger helping me to overcome the draining of my magic.

He wasn't expecting me to attack him using any conventional techniques. I barreled forward, knocking the intruder to the ground. My attack lacked finesse or skill, I simply launched myself and landed on him, but the surprise more than made up for my inexperience. He was expecting a typical mage, helpless without their powers. Pinning his arms down with my knees I held the knife to his throat. Anders came up behind me, quickly disarming the prone man, holding him pinned with his own sword.

"Who are you?" I hissed. "Why are you in our room?"

"Bitch," he muttered. "I have nothing to say to a maleficar whore."

Anders grunted in anger behind me, leveling a kick at the man. "Who sent you," he demanded. I could see the templar's jaw working, but his mouth was closed. With a final grin, his eyes slipped closed. I could feel muscles relax below me.

"WHO ARE YOU!" I screamed, shaking him. It was pointless, the man was dead.

* * *

As always, thanks for the reviews, favorites, and adds! I may not update for a week or more- I've got a handful of final papers to write.


	7. It's straight from the old tales

"Blast," I muttered, prying his mouth open. Tiny bits of glass winked back at me, he must have kept a vial of poison in there. Standing up I kicked the body once more for good measure.

"So was he looking for something, or leaving us something?" Anders asked. I shrugged, no way to know until we checked. I started to search the body and he moved over to our trunk, removing everything and sorting through it. I would have dumped everything out and tossed it in a pile, but not Anders. Every item was removed one at a time for inspection, folded carefully, and stacked neatly on the nightstand to be repacked. Even my robes which, truth be told, weren't folded when I tossed them haphazardly into the trunk in the first place.

A guard appeared at our door. "We heard shouting, is everything all right Commander?"

I stood up, gesturing to the body. He walked in and peeked around the bed, gasping in surprise. "This man attacked us when we got back to our room. He was here waiting." The guard gasped.

"What should I do?" he asked me. Right, because I'm an expert in palace break in protocol.

"Raise an alarm? Who knows if there are more of them around here..." I shrugged. "What would you normally do when someone breaks into the palace and assaults a guest?"

"Yes, of course," he said bowing and running off. With guards like that no wonder someone snuck in.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" I asked Anders.

"Not so far. I don't see anything missing, either. I don't think he even touched the clothing." He snorted. "Except your smallclothes."

"Ew," I muttered, checking the man's pockets. "Repressed templar bastards. Now I have to buy all new stuff." I found his coinpurse and opened it. "Oh, now _this_ is interesting."

"Hm?" Anders looked over and I displayed the gold coins to him.

"Last I knew our gold coins had a picture of Calenhad on one side and a dog on the other. These seem to feature a picture of some topless woman and the word 'livre,' whatever that means."

"Orlesian," Anders supplied. "Did he have an accent?"

"Not that I could tell, but who knows. Maybe he was hiding it."

Our theorizing was cut short by the arrival of more guards, accompanied by Alistair, Nathaniel, and Arl Eamon. After a gesture from Alistair the guards went back into the hall. "Are you both all right?" Nathaniel asked with obvious worry as they ran into the room.

"I've had better evenings," Anders replied. "No permanent damage, at least."

"Should we call for a healer?" Eamon asked, sitting in the chair near the door. He looked older than his fifty years; I suppose someone got him out of bed for this.

I shook my head in response. "Wouldn't help. He was a templar. We've both had our magic drained; only time can fix that." I quickly told them how we came upon the open door, finishing with when they came in.

"You're absolutely sure he was a templar?" Arl Eamon again, looking agitated.

"I've had my magic drained before, there's nothing else like it. Positive." Anders nodded, concurring with my assessment.

Alistair walked out of the room; I could hear him speaking to a guard. He returned after a moment. "The Captain of my guard is off to fetch the Grand Cleric. I don't care if he has to drag her here by the collar of her nightdress, I want to know what's going on." He bent over to closely examine the body. "I've never seen him before. Either of you recognize him, maybe from the tower?" Anders and I both took another look at the man, who appeared to be no more than twenty years old, and shook our heads.

"Did you find anything identifying him?" Nathaniel asked.

Other than the coins and a small bottle of lyrium my search had turned up nothing. "No identification or detailed accounts of his plans, sadly. Something else interesting, though," I said, showing them the Orlesian currency.

"Orlais!" Eamon was out of his chair and pacing. The fastest way to make anyone over forty start wincing and screaming of conspiracy was to bring up Orlais. I normally found that tendency a bit strange, but at this moment I could see the truth in it.

"Not sure. He didn't seem to have an accent."

"You spoke to him, then?" Nathaniel sat on the edge of the bed, eying the body as though he would have been able to tell where the man was from by appearance. Maybe his father told him they would have horns, or an extra eye. Orlais had never been a big concern for anyone living in the tower, there were still enchanters in residence who moved there during the occupation even when I was a girl. Most were old and settled in their ways enough to have no desire to move again.

"Not exactly a conversation," I admitted. "He had a few choice insults for me before he died."

"What did he say?" Alistair asked.

"Let's just say the next person who calls her that will be on the receiving end of some lightning," Anders answered quickly, "if I'm feeling _generous_." Anders shrugged. "And, I admit, I'm not a very generous person most of the time." No one seemed inclined to press the issue after that. I didn't much care, personally. He was just trying to get to me, and commenting on someone's purity didn't work quite so well when they considered it to be of no importance.

I sat on the bed next to Nathaniel, exhausted and sore. "Was everything in our trunk?"

"Looks to be," Anders replied, joining the two of us. "The books we brought were pulled out, but just sitting next to it on the floor." He handed them to me. The templar might have been looking for something incriminating, some tome of blood magic and mind control- as if either of us would bring something like that into the palace. I wonder if he found Anders' guide to advanced magical healing techniques and my book about legendary female Grey Wardens interesting. Hopefully he got a chance to read the chapter about me before he died.

I walked the book over to Alistair with a small smile. "Take a look." I giggled as he opened the cover. "The last chapter. Oh, and the dedication, with a mention in the introduction as well."

Paging through he made a noise of surprise. "Great picture," Alistair commented. I thought the same, when I saw it I ran around showing everyone. They'd drawn me standing on the battlements of Fort Drakon, hair and robes blowing in the wind, with my staff raised and lightning flowing from my hand into the archdemon. It was identifiable as me, but a me that had spent several hours on her hair and makeup, with a custom made robe. I didn't look that good on a normal day, much less after hours of uninterrupted fighting.

"Isn't it? I'm thinking of bringing that to the artist when I get my official portrait done and just telling him to copy it. Apparently I need two, one looking all dull and stodgy, and one showing me killing something impressive."

"I only got the first kind," Alistair said sadly. "I wish I could get an official portrait of me killing something impressive. People might not argue as much at the Landsmeet." Eamon shook his head.

"I wonder why so many Commanders have been women, when the majority of the order are men?"

I shrugged. "There have been a _lot _of commanders, I'm sure it isn't a complete list. I doubt most people get promoted that high with less than ten or twenty years as a Warden." The silent implication being that they would rarely serve for more than a decade or two, if that. "Besides," I added, "people outside the order don't take female Wardens as seriously; we have to work harder to prove ourselves."

"Oh, I think you're exaggerating," Alistair said. I snorted by way of response. He never did notice when people I spoke to during the blight would then direct their answer _over my head_ at him. Or when half of Redcliffe started calling us Grey Warden and Girl Warden, to my annoyance. Bless his heart, after Alistair's initial surprise that the new recruit was female, simply because of our rarity, he'd never once acted like I was any less capable than him. Since he put me in charge almost immediately, I'd imagine it was quite the opposite.

Changing the subject, I turned to Nathaniel. "Sigrun and Oghren?"

He grinned. "Sigrun overdid things a bit, I carried her up to her room, I was leaving when I bumped into the guards and found out what happened. Last I saw Oghren he was drinking with Bann Teagan. They were toasting to your dress."

"Thanks for looking out for her," I said. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Wait," I added after a pause. "Toasting to my dress? _Why?!"_

Nathaniel and Eamon coughed, Alistair giggled a bit but avoided my gaze. "Um, Maggie," Anders said, gesturing for me to come closer. I leaned down so he could whisper in my ear. "You do realize," he said softly, his hot breath brushing against my skin giving me chills, "that your _assets_ are rather impressively displayed in that? Oh, and in my face right now, not that I'm complaining."

Looking down I gasped, quickly standing up and crossing my arms over my chest. Anders burst out laughing, joined a moment later by Nathaniel. "Shut up," I warned them. They ignored me and I sat back down with a pout.

"That was the style then," Eamon said, in what may have been an attempt to make me less uncomfortable. "Right after the war ended." The dress wasn't as old as I'd thought. But, it made sense people wouldn't have wanted anything with even the slightest hint of Orlais at a time like that, and gone back to the pre-occupation styles. Glancing over at me he made a small noise of surprise. "I think I've seen that dress before, actually. I'm fairly sure it was one of my sister's, it looks like the one in her coronation portrait."

I gasped, looking down at the rumpled silk. I'd even managed to rip the skirt somehow. Standing, I tried to smooth the dress out, muttering "oh no" over and over. I glanced up at Eamon helplessly. "This was Queen Rowan's?" My attempts to straighten the creases from the skirt hadn't done a thing. I sat back down helplessly. "I've ruined it. I end up with a _queen's_ dress and completely destroy it in hours." I turned on Alistair. "Why did you send this one to me? You _know_ how I am! If it wasn't a fight I would have just spilled something on myself!"

"I didn't know," he protested. "I just had one of the maids dig out a bunch of old dresses that might fit you. There are trunks full of clothing in the attics; no one knows who originally owned any of it."

"Maker's breath," I muttered, sinking onto the bed and wrapping myself in a blanket so I wouldn't have to stare at the national heirloom I'd managed to ruin.

"I wouldn't worry," Eamon assured me. "Rowan wasn't above getting in a scrape on occasion, either. Hold onto it, maybe you can have it repaired and wear it again." I nodded glumly. Anders, trying to be reassuring, put an arm around me. I only managed a yawn in response, which he mirrored almost immediately. The exhaustion from the templar's attack was finally starting to set in.

"Are we keeping you up?" Nathaniel asked, a wry grin on his face.

"It's a side effect of having their magic drained," Alistair said by way of explanation.

"It leaves you exhausted and aching," I said. "It's not unusual to sleep for maybe ten or twelve hours to recover." Remembering our plans I kicked out my legs in frustration. "Andraste's tits, the recruits. We're supposed to leave tomorrow!"

Anders waved his hand with a dismissive gesture. "I'm sure we can-" his words were broken with another yawn. "Can tell Bann Shianni to let everyone know if we have to stay longer."

"I don't _want_ to stay longer," I said, realizing I sounded like a spoiled child. "I'm S_ick. Of. This. _I'm not a bad person, I'm not _evil_, I don't know why they won't just leave me alone to do my sodding job." I sighed and Nathaniel patted my shoulder in sympathy. "All I want is to kill darkspawn in peace."

For a moment everyone was silent. I realized that Anders was shaking slightly, trying not to laugh. After another minute he stopped struggling, and was soon joined in hysterics by Nathaniel and Alistair. After a moment I started laughing, too. "All right, that came out wrong."

"Noooo," Anders insisted. "No, no, not at all. I've always hoped I could find a pretty girl, settle down, and spend the rest of our days peacefully slaughtering monsters. Really, who doesn't want that? It's straight from the old tales." He made a contented noise, wrapping both arms around me. "So nice to be living out my lifelong dream."

We all laughed even harder. Or rather, the Wardens and Warden-turned-king laughed. Arl Eamon eyed us all as though we had grown extra eyes. Our moment of levity was broken by a shout from the hall.

Tavish, the Knight-Commander of Denerim stormed in. In Ferelden he was second only to Greagoir in the tower. After a brief bow to Alistair and a strange glance directed at the three of us sitting on my bed he opened his mouth as if to speak. We all looked at him expectantly, but nothing seemed to come out.

"What is it, son?" Eamon asked, setting a hand on the man's arm.

The templar shook his head briefly and stood back at attention. "The Grand Cleric is dead."

"Maker's breath," Alistair gasped.

Suddenly I found myself very glad I was already sitting down. "What happened?" I asked him.

Eamon gestured to a chair, which Tavish gratefully accepted. "She has a personal guard, a templar," he began. I nodded: I wouldn't have expected any less. I'd had to fight with both the palace and later Varel to make sure I didn't get saddled with one myself, and I was far less important than she in the scheme of things. "He accompanied her back to the Chantry after the ball. She stopped for a brief evening devotion in the chapel before retiring to her room. He remained in the hallway when she entered her quarters, which was her custom. A moment later he heard a scream, but found the door locked. By the time the door was opened she was dead."

This was sounding a bit too familiar. "And her attacker?"

"Gone," he answered. "Out the window and across the roof." He paused, turning to look more closely at Anders and myself. "All we can tell is that the killer was a maleficar. They used blood magic."

"How _fantastically_ coincidental," Anders muttered.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask this," Tavish said, actually sounding sincerely apologetic. "Where were the Warden mages an hour ago? I know they left the ball not long after the Grand Cleric." He had already checked up on us, apparently. I couldn't blame him, though. If anyone in Ferelden had cause to want the Grand Cleric dead it was me.

"Funny thing," I said, not really feeling all that amused. "An hour ago Anders and I returned to our room from the ball where _we_ were attacked by a templar." I gestured to the body. Tavish stood, looking around the bed at the body. I watched his face, trying to judge the reaction. I had to admit, if he was surprised he didn't show it much.

"Ah yes," he muttered, more to himself than any of us. "That."

The rest of our group snapped to attention at his statement, looking at him closely. Alistair turned on him, pulling himself to his full height. "If you know _anything_ about this I suggest you speak now. Interfering with the Wardens in the course of their duties is treason in Ferelden. I would say an attempt on two of their lives certainly qualifies as _interference_."

He sat back down, looking annoyed but not otherwise concerned. "Since the Grand Cleric is dead I suppose it's of no consequence now."

"Tell us what you know," Alistair said flatly.

He sighed, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I'd rather this not become public knowledge," he began. "The Grand Cleric approached me to see if I thought it would be feasible for templars to… confront the Warden Commander while she was in town for the Landsmeet. I told her it was a bad idea and I'd have no part in it. The Commander is immensely popular in Ferelden, and Denerim in particular. The Grand Cleric's feelings about her were well known. If anything were to happen people would suspect Chantry involvement immediately."

He reached up, brushing his hair back from his face. "I didn't bother to tell Her Grace I personally had no interest in sending my men to die at the feet of the Wardens. Not just because I know anyone who defeated Loghain Mac Tir in a duel could easily cut through most of our ranks but, well, I have a great respect for your order." Tavish offered me a small smile at that. I was too surprised to return the expression, I'm sure my shock was obvious since he went on to explain. "I fought when Denerim was under siege; it was the most horrifying experience of my life. One I still see in my nightmares and hope to never repeat. That you willingly devote your lives to eradicating those unholy beasts… well, Maker bless you, I couldn't stomach it."

"Thank you," I said honestly.

"Your sentiments are appreciated. But, that doesn't explain _him_," Nathaniel pointed out.

"Do we suspect she found someone more amicable to her idea when you refused her?" Arl Eamon suggested. It seemed as reasonable a plan as any. After all, the templar _skills_ could be learned by anyone trained as a warrior, and it didn't take long. I knew as much from what Alistair had told me a few years earlier. He'd trained Sten and Oghren in them since they worked just as well against darkspawn Emissaries as they did against mages.

"It does look that way," Tavish said. "Not a templar, by his look, just someone who learned our skills. I'd never allow one of my men to wear an earring. When I refused her she said she would find another way, and reminded me I could always be reassigned to guard bathrooms in the tower."

I glanced over again; the body did indeed sport a single golden hoop earring. "One more thing," I said, handing him a couple of the Orlesian coins. "A purse full of these was found on his body."

"Did he speak?" Tavish asked, looking concerned. "Was there an accent?" Was I the only person in Ferelden who couldn't identify foreign currency on sight?

"Not that either of us could tell, but he said less than half a dozen words." I went through the attack once more, this time repeating what he said. Nathaniel made a face at the words, everyone else shifted with obvious discomfort.

"He had no right to call you that," Anders muttered angrily.

Turning, I leaned towards him. "It's all right, really. I'm not bothered by it," I told him, my voice low, "although I do appreciate that you are. The easiest way to upset most women is to call them a whore, and it had the benefit of upsetting you as well. I would be more angry if he had called my skills into question. Childish names are nothing, if he said my fireballs were pathetic it would be another story."

Anders allowed himself a small chuckle at that. "That's my girl," he said. "Rude names get ignored, but insult her destruction spells and you'll find yourself on the wrong end of them." He shook his head and glanced back at the body. "So, since _this_ seems to be the Grand Cleric's way of thanking us for our fine service to Ferelden, what about _her_ attacker?"

We were silent for a moment, all contemplating this. Nathaniel was finally the first to speak. "I think," he said slowly, "her death may have been meant to cast suspicion on Maggie specifically or maybe the Wardens as a whole." I had harbored the same fear, but didn't want to say it out loud. It sounded so incredibly paranoid to think someone would go out of their way to find a blood mage and hire them to murder the religious leader of Ferelden just to make me look bad. I couldn't imagine anyone thought I was that important. For all my fancy titles I was a figurehead in a land ruled by my seneschal and the leader of a military organization totaling less than half a dozen people.

"Perhaps they saw Maggie leave the ball and hoped to make their move, knowing she wouldn't have had a believable alibi for the rest of the evening," Nathaniel concluded.

"She didn't leave _alone_," Anders reminded him. "I could have told anyone that asked where she was."

"No one would believe you," I said, knowing it to be the truth.

"Right," Nathaniel agreed. "Not only are the two of you involved, but you're also another mage and a Warden. Any of those things _alone_ would be enough to make people think you would be willing to lie for her. Besides, whoever did this might have assumed, or hoped, you would _both_ be blamed." Both Eamon and Tavish nodded in agreement at that assessment. I was glad Nathaniel had shown up, as tired as I was it would have taken me an hour to piece that all together. If we ever had more than two coppers to rub together I'd have to make sure he got a raise.

"Yes, I suppose that should have been rather obvious," Anders agreed with a sigh.

"So it looks as though the attacks aren't so much related as they are two people taking advantage of the same good timing. Fantastic." I stood up and paced the room, blanket trailing behind me like a long fuzzy train. "I need to come to Denerim more often, just so everyone plotting against me can spread their attacks out a bit more." Nearly tripping over the body I cursed. "Andraste's ass, can we please get him out of here? I'm so tired I can barely think as it is, looking at that corpse isn't helping."

Eamon stepped out, returning a moment later with two guards who hauled the body away.

"Thank you," I said. "It seems the question _now_ is who would stand to gain from discrediting me? Besides the obvious, since, well, I don't think the Grand Cleric would arrange suicide by blood mage just to make us look bad." No one had an answer for that.

"What will we tell people?" Tavish finally said. "I can't hide the death of the Grand Cleric, and although _we_ all know you had nothing to do with it people will still speculate and talk."

"We'll release details of both attacks," Eamon said simply. "I normally wouldn't want to admit a breech of palace security in public, but it's the only way. That will ensure the Commander and Wardens are beyond suspicion. We can _say_ we believe them to be related, perhaps by someone who wanted to sew discontent and disorder in Ferelden." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Perhaps we can blame lingering pro-Loghain factions who want to cause problems for Alistair's reign?"

"That'll work," Alistair said. "Might even be true, a few people still suspect the Wardens are allied with Orlais."

I shook my head. "He died a Warden. I don't want his name dragged into this."

Alistair made a noise of disgust. Although he understood why I recruited Loghain he still despised the man, and I suspected he would never completely forgive me for it, despite his assurances otherwise. To Alistair Loghain was responsible for everything from the creation of the darkspawn to the Maker leaving his people, to, I don't know, cheese shortages.

"Alistair, _no_," I insisted. "He _died a Warden_. He died our brother. You _know_ what that means; that should be enough for you."

"I will never call that man _brother,"_ Alistair said with disgust. "Besides, he's _dead_, it shouldn't matter. It's the most believable explanation."

With outsiders in the room I didn't want to remind the king, once again, that Loghain's last words were an apology for how deeply he misjudged our order and plea to take the final blow against the archdemon so he could earn redemption for his actions in death. Because of it I was alive and he was entombed with full honors at Weisshaupt alongside the other four Wardens who gave their lives, and perhaps their very souls, to slay an archdemon. I owed it to him not to let his memory get dragged any further through the mud.

I stopped my pacing to stare at the king, shrugging the blanket to the floor and planting my hands on my hips. Both Nathaniel and Anders, who were well aware of this ongoing argument between Alistair and I, rose to their feet to join me in facing off with the king. "No," I said once more. "I don't _care_ what you think of him, he died a Warden and a brother. He gave his life for us, for _me_, and he _will_ _not_ be slandered publicly to make our lives easier. Maker's breath, dead Wardens are not political pawns! It matters to his memory, it matters to the Wardens, and it matters to _me_." I punctuated this statement with an angry stomp of my foot. Not the most mature way to get what I want, but it was that or kick Alistair in the shins until he gave up. He glared at me icily; I met it with a glare of my own. After a moment Alistair looked away from the three of us. Tavish, who had been watching this back and forth with interest and mounting concern, seemed to relax back into his chair.

"Fine," he agreed, "it's not worth angering half the Wardens in Ferelden. Come up with someone else to blame, Eamon."

"I suppose pro-Howe factions would be out as well?" Eamon asked, almost apologetically.

"Very much so," Nathaniel curtly replied.

"Maggie, this would be easier if you didn't have a habit of turning your enemies into allies," Eamon quipped.

"What can I say? I'm a persuasive woman. Given time and a chance to speak to her I bet even the Grand Cleric would have been sending me a birthday gift." He shook his head before turning to quietly discuss options with Tavish.

Alistair, apparently thrilled at a chance to change the subject, gave me a quizzical look. "Did you find out when it was?" he asked.

"Um, sure, let's say that. It was 14 Kingsway. You owe me a present."

"The day before the battle of Ostagar?" he remarked, realization dawning on his face. "Funny, your birthday and the day you became a Warden are the same. Imagine that…"

"Look what Anders gave me," I said, displaying the amulet I wore on a plain black cord. When he handed it to me that morning after I woke up I had turned the box over in my hands for several moments, just amazed I was holding an actual birthday present someone had picked out for me. He had to threaten to take it back before I would rip the blue wrapping paper. It depicted a griffin in flight, clutching a small blue stone in its claws. Anders had enchanted it to enhance frost spells.

"Wow, that's really nice," Alistair said, giving Anders an approving nod. "I love griffins."

"Me too" I agreed, replacing my blanket around my shoulders. It wasn't winter quite yet, but the fall evening was cool, especially compared to the evenings in Amaranthine.

"It's a shame they're extinct."

"You never know," I said. "That's what they said about dragons, and I've killed a bunch of those, and what, three _high_ dragons? We may end up with griffins yet." If anything that would cut our boot budget in half since we wouldn't walk them to shreds in less than two months. Not to mention how much faster getting places would be. No one would call us grim if we had griffins, that's for sure.

Alistair's eyes took on a distant look, as though he was imaging himself soaring above Ferelden. "Flying into battle on a white griffin, would anything be better? I'd take mine everywhere just to see people react."

I nodded in agreement. "Since the main hall was destroyed I get to change it. I talked to the workmen, they're carving griffins into each of the pillars when they get replaced, instead of the mabari that were there before. It'll be _fantastic!_ You'll have to come see when it's all done."

"Maker's breath," Anders groaned, "someone please stop them. Please."

"I don't know," Nathaniel said. "It has been a few days since Maggie's really gone on about griffins. For her that's a long time."

"A few days for _you_, maybe. You don't share a room with the woman. If it wasn't for the nightmares I think she'd even _dream_ about them."

"I do like the wrap up of every battle where we all decide how it would have been better if we were on griffins," Nathaniel said. "That's kind of fun."

"Now you're just making things up," I protested. "I did that _once_. And you have to admit, killing broodmothers would be a _lot_ easier if we could stay out of reach of their tentacles. Besides, griffins are _awesome_, I don't get why you two find it so strange."

The two of them laughed at this. I was too tired to argue with them, choosing to sit back down instead. After a moment Eamon cleared his throat. Both he and the Knight-Commander were looking at the four of us as though we had lost our minds. It took a moment for Nathaniel and Anders to calm down, I suspected Anders was exhausted enough to find almost anything hysterical. As for Nathaniel, while he wasn't _drunk_, he wasn't exactly sober either. He was very good at hiding it, but I was starting to realize he'd had a few more drinks than any of us realized. Once everyone was quiet we looked to the Arl once again.

"We've decided," he began, "to simply release information on the attacks, saying there are reasons we believe them to be related, but not going into any further details."

"That may be for the best," I said. "I don't think the Grand Cleric and I have any mutual enemies, unless they're an enemy of Ferelden as a whole. And if that was the case Alistair makes a far better target than either of us."

"Someone may come forward with more information," Nathaniel suggested. "Maybe our friend was seen skulking around, or someone was spotted at the Chantry."

"We can only hope," Eamon agreed. He and the templar stood to excuse themselves to work on a joint statement. As soon as they were out of earshot I sighed. "Why do I suspect this will end with me having to speak to Greagoir?"

"Because it most likely will," Anders supplied. "Can I come? I'd like to wave it in his face that I'm untouchable now." I laughed, picturing the expression on his face. "Ooh, and Irving, too. Maker, I hated that bastard."

"Hey, Irving's a nice guy. He was constantly letting me off the hook for stuff, as long as the templars didn't know." Anders only made a face at that. I ignored him and grabbed the purse we had found on the body. A glance inside to check the amount caused me to whistle. "Can you do something for me?" I asked Nathaniel.

"I don't see why not."

I passed him the money. "Tomorrow can you make sure the recruits from the Alienage have everything they need? Tents and bedrolls, armor only if absolutely necessary. Alistair has some men who will join us as well, he's vouched for their skills."

"Like I said before," Alistair cut in, "they're all knights, so expect some _knightly_ attitude."

"Not for long," I said. "I'm already working out my inspiring speech to break them of that." Alistair chuckled at this.

"If they tell me to call them Ser I'll tell them to go soak their heads," Nathaniel said.

"Perfect," I told him. "Anyways, talk to them since they may need tents as well. Buy cheap for everything, it only has to last as long as the trip home. We can give them the Orlesian stuff once we're back, and this is enough to feed the lot of us for more than a month. Arrange everything for us to leave the day after tomorrow."

"Not looking forward to handing people Orlesian currency, but I'll do it."

"Just tell them you took it from a dead Chevalier."

Nathaniel laughed at that. "Not bad. Anything else you need?"

"You're in charge until I'm conscious again."

"Then I order you both to get some rest." He stood up and gestured at Alistair. The two of them said goodnight and slipped out the door.

Once we were alone Anders locked the door, and went one further by jamming a chair up under the knob. I climbed out of my dress and felt another pang of guilt as I dropped it to the floor. It was already destroyed, though. Not being put away properly couldn't make it any worse. Climbing under the blankets I barely registered Anders getting in beside me before I was out.

* * *

_A/N: OK, this came out crazy long. I just didn't have a good place to break, though. You know, my life would be so easy if papers for school came together this quickly. Papers I should be writing now, but after churning out eight pages on Yeats, five on Macbeth, and a ten page story for my creative writing class since freaking YESTERDAY I needed a brain break._ :)

_As always, thanks so much to everyone who favorites and alerts this, and blessings of the Maker to anyone who reviews. _


	8. Deviancy is a matter of perspective

_A/N: Fair warning, gets nsfw very quick._

* * *

I noticed two things when I woke up. The first was that a corner of the blanket I had clutched in my fist at some point while asleep was presently frozen solid under my fingers. I normally wouldn't cast spells in my sleep, but it wasn't an unheard of reaction to magic returning after being drained. The second was that someone was, very slowly, running a hand up and down my side while teeth grazed the back of my neck. Blinking to adjust my eyes to the bright red light of sunset filling the room even against the drapes drawn over the windows, I shifted, rolling to my other side.

"Oh, did I wake you?" Anders said once I was facing him.

"Of course not," I insisted, sliding my arms around him. "I'm still asleep. This is a fantastic dream."

"Isn't it?" he agreed, teasing me with sparks of lightning along my spine. I dug my nails into his shoulders in response, pulling him closer to me. Anders groaned when my hips pressed into him, a leg snaking over his hips. I reached down, wrapping my hand around him, moving slowly despite his hips pushing against me, urging me faster. "Maker's breath, Maggie," Anders gasped. He mirrored me, sliding a hand between my thighs. I moaned as one, and then two fingers slid into me. "You little minx," he chuckled.

Our lips crashed together and I moved my hand faster, meeting the pace he was demanding. Anders matched my speed with his fingers and thumb. "Yes," I groaned through clenched teeth. "Don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstop!" His hand faltered and I made a noise of protest.

"Let go," Anders gasped, "I can't-" he groaned again, eyes closed. I ignored him, moving faster. His breath hitched, coming in gasps and fits. Still moving his fingers in me, I rocked my hips in time. "Please, Maggie," he breathed against my neck, before sinking his teeth into me and shuddering violently.

Anders leaned against me, panting. "Right," he said after a moment, "your turn." Shoving me to my back he slid down the bed, pausing to bite and lick on his way down to settle between my legs. I arched my back, groaning out his name as he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Throwing his free arm over me Anders held me to the bed, keeping my hips from bucking against him. Holding the headboard with one arm, I tangled my other hand into his hair. Every time I gasped out his name Anders rewarded me by going faster, so I moaned it like a chant. With a final cry I shook, collapsing against the bed.

Climbing up me swiftly Anders looked down and grinned. "Have I mentioned," he said, "how much I _love_ this Warden stamina?" Any response I might have made was cut short by the involuntary groan I made as he pushed into me.

"Oh Maker," I gasped.

"No," he said, voice rough. "_My_ name." He started to move faster.

"Anders," I said, looking up into his eyes. He ran a hand across my cheek, I turned towards it, kissing his palm. I cried out, throwing my head back. He reached behind me, pulling me up to face him again. "I love you," I gasped, shuddering again, alternating his name with wordless shouts.

He groaned and kissed me, biting down on my lip before parting. "Say it again," he whispered.

"I- I love you, Anders," I repeated, nails digging into his back hard enough to draw blood. The smell of copper was on the air, nearly overpowering the smell of our sweat. "Anders," I cried out, "I… love you… so much." My breath was jagged, I could barely get the words out. Ice was forming on my fingertips. He gasped out my name again and again. "Say it," I begged. I was so close. I needed to hear him, though. "Please."

He moved faster, leaning over as he pounded into me. "Love you, Maggie," Anders gasped out before kissing me roughly. "Love you love you love you," he repeated, looking into my eyes. I clung to him, crying his name once more as I shook violently. A few seconds later, still alternating between muttering my name and professing his love, Anders groaned and collapsed onto me. After a final deep kiss he rolled onto his back, panting. Our fingers intertwined as we regained our breath.

I rolled onto my side once my heart had stopped pounding. "Can I ruin our romantic moment?" I asked, smiling.

"Only if it's to suggest finding food," Anders said.

"Well you're in luck," I said, leaning in to kiss him once more before I climbed out of bed, stomach rumbling.

Once we were both dressed and armed Anders removed the chair and opened the door. Unfortunately it was right into the face of a shocked guard. Oh, hello awkward situation, it has been a few hours since we'd met.

"Good, um, evening, Ser!" the guard said after a moment. He looked beyond Anders to stare at me, not even bothering to hide his leer.

Anders cocked his head slightly. "Can I help you?" He sounded annoyed, and rightfully so given that the guard was currently looking at me as though he was trying to visualize what we had been doing now that he had a face to go with the noises. Anders stepped to the side, standing directly in front of me.

"No, Ser," the guard replied, snapping his attention to Anders from me once he'd realized the large annoyed looking mage had intentionally blocked his line of sight. "We were told to guard your door. Warden Nathaniel was quite insistent no one disturb you and the Commander. I understand there was a bit of an incident last night, he didn't want a repeat of any problems while you, um, rested."

Anders put a hand over his mouth. To most people it would look like a contemplative gesture, but I knew him enough to know that meant he was either trying not to laugh or trying not to shout. It didn't take much to figure out which it was this time. "Right," he said after a moment. "Well then, we're off to find some dinner. Thank you both for not allowing us to be slaughtered outright in our sleep." We slipped past the guards, keeping our faces neutral.

"Maker's breath," I heard the guard say to his companion when we were halfway down the hall. "What you think he did to get her howling like that?" Anders slowed his pace, trying to stay within hearing range. I could see he had the beginnings of a proud cocky grin.

"_Mages_," the other replied in a knowing voice. "They got all sorts of tricks the likes of us would never understand. I hear that tower's downright deviant, what with all of them pawing at each other like animals day and night."

"Lucky bastards," his friend replied.

"Eh, they deserve their fun, what with all their troubles," the mage expert replied. "That towers no better than a prison, and they only get out to fight darkspawn. No life I'd want."

Unable to contain ourselves any longer we darted around a corner before breaking down in laughter. "I almost want to go back and tell them how close they are to the truth," Anders said.

"Oh, don't you dare," I warned. "It's bad enough they were out there listening the whole time!"

We made it to the dining room without any other reputation-destroying incidents. Alistair was sitting at the table with the other Wardens, Elissa, and Arl Eamon. They greeted us warmly as we entered.

"Just in time?" I asked.

"Can Wardens sense food as well as darkspawn?" Eamon quipped. I laughed and took a seat.

"So," I said, filling a plate from the various dishes around the table, "what did we miss?"

"I've been deposed, Nathaniel is now king, Sigrun is his chancellor, and we're all about to run away to join a traveling circus," Alistair said, grinning.

"Sounds good," I said, turning to Nathaniel. "Your majesty," I nodded in reverence, "thank you for the guards, I only wish we had known."

"You're both sitting ducks without magic, it would be the perfect time for someone to attack," he replied. Giving me a strange look Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Um, Maggie, you're- um, your neck is bleeding."

I put my hand up, removing it to see he was right. Anders hopped up. "Oops," he said with a smile, "my mistake."

"Just heal me," I told him, rolling my eyes with a grin. I felt the warmth of magic and winced slightly as my skin knit back together.

"Did you traumatize my guards, Mags?" Alistair demanded.

"I hardly think _traumatize_ is the right word," Anders insisted. "Anyways, they'd already written it off to us being typically deviant mages before we made it halfway down the hall."

"_Typically_ deviant mages?" Elissa asked, her lips in a grin.

"Deviancy is a matter of perspective," I replied primly. "And I'll make Alistair explain, since I love to watch him squirm. Someone cover Eamon's ears, he won't want to hear this."

"Don't you dare," Eamon said, pointing a finger at me. I shrugged. His funeral. Although, really, from what I could tell of normal people, they _wanted_ their sons to go out and find a girl, it was the girls who were expected to resist every advance that came their way right up until their wedding night.

"Well," Alistair began, already looking uncomfortable. "You know how there's manners and rules and order in society? So that, oh, I don't know, if you come across someone you find attractive, you might, say, talk to them and get to know them? Instead winking at each other and wordlessly running off to the nearest dark corner before names are even exchanged?"

"I am familiar with how society functions, yes," Elissa remarked dryly.

"Yes, well, mages don't believe in manners, rules, or social order." She was silent for a moment; I could see her piecing together what he said, expressions flashing across her face. Confusion, understanding, ah, there it was, shock.

"Really?" Elissa asked me.

I shrugged. "It's normal for us; no one ever said anything was any different outside the tower. I was rather surprised to find out how different it is for everyone else. I kind of feel bad for you normal types." Alistair laughed at that, and Eamon raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, all this _nuance_ and layers of meaning. You can't just say what you think and do what you want, it's like some crazy dance even though everyone knows the ending already."

"Too much of it rubbed off on you," Anders said. He was right, I'd pushed his advances away for months even though I knew all along what would happen. All because I was worried about what people would think, which is pretty absurd given all the things people already think about me. Having the whole of Ferelden believe I was taking recruits to my bed three at a time couldn't be worse than some of the other rumors I'd heard. And hey, something like that might net us a few recruits. Recruits who would find themselves very soon disappointed, but even so.

"And now we see why the Chantry is such a fan of our Maggie," Alistair quipped. "Ah, well, at least several of our brothers went to the Maker happy at Ostagar," Alistair said. I raised an eyebrow at him. This was the most explicit conversation he'd ever been involved in that didn't include turning red and running off with his fingers in his ears loudly calling 'la la la' behind him. I glanced at him again. He was sitting very close to Elissa, and one hand was under the table, angled in such a way that I guessed it to be on her leg. A-ha, that explains it. Our little templar had indeed grown up. But really, _several_? It was two! And not even in the same _day!_ It wasn't as though I hung up an 'open for business' sign on my tent and took on every man in the Ferelden Wardens.

"_Several _is a bit of an exaggeration," I protested.

"Just a _bit_?" Nathaniel said, shocked.

"Lucky us," Oghren said, slapping Nathaniel on the shoulder, "we meet her after she gives all that up."

"Lucky _me_," Anders said, grinning.

"I suppose Connor's teenage years will be rather more exciting than my own," Eamon remarked.

"Well, if we're all done destroying my good name," I laughed, "what did I really miss?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "No news on what happened, if that's what you mean. The recruits will be ready to go. We've got a couple wagons. The city is up in arms that someone would dare try and hurt you."

That was a surprise. I'd figured I would get blamed for the Grand Cleric. "Really?"

Eamon nodded. "The rumor, within a couple hours of the news being released, was that the attack on the Grand Cleric was just a diversion by religious fanatics to make you look bad. Some people also started to panic and rushed the palace when they heard you were attacked: they thought you and the Cleric had both been killed."

"You're kidding," I gasped, laughing. Rushing the palace, that was _bad_, but really? For me? And if I was dead, Maker forbid, what purpose would that even serve? Would they riot me back to life? I forced myself not to grin once I realized my misreported death was apparently a bigger worry than the _actual _death of the Grand Cleric.

Nathaniel chuckled. "I had to go out and promise everyone you were resting and would make an appearance before we left. Plan a few words for tomorrow," he warned. "I don't think you realize how much the people love you."

"How could they _not_?" Anders asked, brushing a hand across my cheek.

Nathaniel, watching us, suddenly grinned. He handed me a broadsheet from under his chair.

"I didn't know you read gossip rags, Nathaniel," I teased.

He snorted. "How can I resist when my Commander makes the news? Check out the page two social events article."

I opened the paper, scanning for the article. "Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding," I muttered, seeing a small line drawing of Anders helping me from the carriage when we arrived in Denerim. I showed it to Anders. His eyes went wide.

"Gimmie," Sigrun demanded, reaching for it. He handed it over and, after a moment, she howled with laughter. "With all of Denerim looking forward to the marriage of our handsome King to the beautiful lady Cousland," she read, snickering, "whispers of another prominent romance have begun to circulate. The enigmatic Warden Commander Margaret, who has long resisted the advances of many of Ferelden's most prominent nobles,"

"What, _what?_" I interrupted. "Advances? From _who_? Are we sure they're even talking about me?"

"Enigmatic would not be one of the first words I would use to describe you," Nathaniel admitted. "Or even the seventieth. So perhaps they do mean someone else."

"Quiet, I'm reading," Sigrun said. "…has been repeatedly seen in the company of one of the Heroes of Amaranthine. In fact, it would be more accurate to say she has yet to be seen outside his company since the Wardens arrived in Denerim. This fellow Warden by the name of Anders is as famed for his quick wit as he is for his magical prowess."

"I'm famed?" Anders said, grinning.

"Quick wit?" Oghren snorted. "We sure they got the right man?"

"_Reading_," Sigrun reminded us. "Our sources say it may not be long before the two most popular mages in Ferelden plan a visit to the Chantry of their own." She barely got the last words out before dissolving into more laugher.

"Wait... _what_? What sources?" Anders asked. "Are you playing a joke on us?" Everyone laughed at that, but no one admitted to planting stories for laughs. Not that I expected they would. Anders gave me a panicked glance. I'm sure the one I met it with was very similar.

"So, um… how will we manage this?" I said finally, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a firebomb on the table. "Recruits and wagons and leaving and now this whole letting me actually speak in public thing?"

"Let's drag the recruits with us," Sigrun said. "Give them a taste of the exciting parts before we toss them to the deep roads. We can get everyone here to the palace before you go outside so there won't be a parade following us into the Alienage."

I nodded, it seemed a good plan. Most people who _weren't_ me liked having a large crowd cheer and clap for them.

"You send them to the _Deep Roads_?" Eamon exclaimed. "Right away?"

I nodded. "No one gets to be a Warden until they've killed at least one darkspawn. That's where you know they'll be found." He looked horrified but didn't say anything else. Really, what could he expect? Wardens kill darkspawn, if they couldn't handle that they didn't belong with us. "We don't send them _alone_," I said. "Traditionally the newest member of the order goes with them, but since there's so many recruits I think we'll each take a few of them."

Once the meal was over Alistair convinced all of us to join him in the throne room, where a troop of actors from Highever would be performing. I readily agreed and he had extra seats brought in and placed on the dais. We took our places and watched the actors enter to introduce themselves. Looking at the assembled crowd they bowed and began to speak among themselves.

"Is this part of it?" Anders whispered. "I've never been to the theater." I shook my head.

A man in elaborate gold costume approached. "Your Majesty," he intoned, bowing with a flourish. "We had intended to perform a piece from Antiva entitled _Antonio's Revenge_. However, seeing the unique privilege we have of performing for the King and his bride, as well as the famed Wardens, with your permission, we would like to instead present one of our new works, an original to this company. It has been written with the changing attitudes of Ferelden in mind." He practically danced as he spoke, all arm waves and little bows. Maybe that was an actor thing?

"Sure," Alistair said, with a shrug. Odds are he would be half asleep by the end of the first scene, anyways. He hated theater, this must have been a concession to Elissa. The actor nodded and they disappeared briefly, leaving us to wonder what they planned.

"I hope this isn't some crazy anti-mage Chantry thing," I said.

"I doubt they would insult you right in front of the king," Alistair reminded me. Before I could respond the actors returned, in different costumes.

Everyone bowed and stepped back, leaving a single young actor dressed in what looked to be a rough approximation of mage robes sitting on the floor, hands at the sides of his face. I tensed involuntarily. The actor stood and began to pace the floor, bemoaning his lot in life and pleading with the Maker to explain why he had been cursed from birth.

"Where have I heard that before," Oghren snickered. Sigrun shushed him with a smack across the head.

Another actor entered, this one dressed in elaborate armor and announcing himself to be the Spirit of Wisdom. Explaining that the mage had fallen asleep over his books, he went on to tell the man to embrace his unique gift. Mages, the spirit explained, were not only cursed with the ability to speak with demons, they were also blessed with the ability to speak to the good spirits of the Fade as well, which made them closer to the wisdom of the Maker than any other beings of Thedas. I gasped, this wasn't just modern, it was outright _heresy_. A heresy I had repeated many times myself, but I couldn't be executed for it by a templar. I mean, they could certainly try, but I doubted they would get very far.

Not that it wasn't _true_, it was just a truth the Chantry refused to acknowledge. I couldn't even fathom the reaction of the Grand Cleric. Well, if she wasn't dead. I wondered if I would get struck down for finding it such a relief that someone else took care of that problem for me. Wanting someone dead wasn't exactly a good thing, but Andraste's frilly smallclothes, she was a _bitch_.

"I think I like theater," Anders whispered in my ear. The spirit went on to talk about a new King, a wise man who would bring change to his people.

The mage-actor laid down in a posture of sleep and the spirit departed. Two more actors rushed on, a man and woman dressed in similar robes. Waking the lead they told him how the good King had just freed them all from their tower prison, and he was to be sent to court as an adviser. The three then performed a short joyful dance, waving colored ribbons that, presumably, represented their magic. "If we danced like that," Anders whispered, "the palace would be more burnt than the Keep!"

The actor portraying the King, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Alistair right down to his dark blond wig, entered, gave a short speech about freedom and wisdom, and departed with the hero. Finally, the masque concluded, the actors returned and bowed to our applause.

"If I may," the lead actor said, stepping forward, "this was a production of our own devising, never before seen. I would be most interested in your reactions." I almost giggled at how he imitated the formal speech everyone assumed we used at court. Well, some did. No one I talked to if I could help it, though.

"It was very different," Alistair said diplomatically. "I enjoyed the dance scene."

"Wonderful!" Anders exclaimed.

I noticed they were all looking at me. "Well," I said, "I enjoyed the play a great deal. But I fear you could get yourselves in trouble with it. Saying things like that isn't always safe." It was obviously performed for my benefit and, while I did appreciate the sentiment, I'd hate to see them condemned as heretics by the Chantry.

"On the contrary," the actor replied, waving his arms with a flourish, "we are merely giving voice to sentiments many express these days. We have traveled the whole of Ferelden," this was punctuated with a particularly wild arm wave, apparently demonstrating the directions they've gone, "and everywhere we go people lament the snatching of their children to the tower and condemn the imprisonment of innocent citizens." He gestured dramatically as he spoke, pantomiming the lamenting parents and, apparently, an anguished prisoner, while walking back and forth across the room. Anders and I glanced at each other. This was news to us. I suspected it was also, at best, a massive exaggeration. "Many hold you up as an example," he added, "as proof of what mages could accomplish if given a chance, and as evidence that the precautions taken are unnecessary." He took another bow and with more waving of his arms they left.

"That was surprising," Elissa said.

"I think they'll find themselves on the wrong end of a templar if they perform it publicly," I remarked.

"Oh, I don't know," she said. "He has a point, I like to go out in public sometimes, disguise myself and wander the market. I've seen people arguing with templars more than a dozen times in the last few months. Screaming for their children back, or calling them jailkeeps."

"They had a saying in the Free Marches," Nathaniel mused, "'may you live in interesting times'"

"That's nice," I said, not sure why he mentioned it just now. "I mean, interesting is better than boring. No one wants to live in _boring_ times."

"Actually," he replied, "it was a curse." _I swear to Andraste, if Nathaniel doesn't cheer up soon I'm dragging him to the Pearl myself_, I thought briefly. No one should be that pessimistic that frequently. Not that I thought a quick roll would turn his mood around completely, he'd need to go back in time and get a new childhood for that, but it wouldn't hurt. Maybe I should suggest to Sigrun that she get him drunk… that might work.

"Come on, grumpy," Sigrun prodded him. "Don't be a grump. Maggie's right, interesting is much better than boring."

"Actually, it gave me an idea-" I began.

"Maggie," Nathaniel warned.

"Stop worrying, it's nothing bad. Anders, can you help me with my speech for tomorrow?"

"Maggie!" Nathaniel said again, but I waved him aside.

"Maker's breath," Nathaniel moaned. "We're all going to die, aren't we?"

"I'm already dead," Sigrun reminded him with a smile. I looked over at them and caught her winking as well. She flashed me a grin. 'Get him drunk,' I mouthed while gesturing sipping from a cup. She nodded over his shoulder and gave me a thumbs up.

"Sorry if I'm not so cheerful about the prospect," Nathaniel replied, whipping his head around to see what signals Sigrun and I were sending to each other. I gave him an innocent smile, he narrowed his eyes in reply. I placed a hand over my heart as if wounded by his suspicious nature. "Well, I'm wearing my plate armor tomorrow. I suggest you do the same."

"Let's just make it a rule that we do whenever Maggie has a great idea," Anders suggested.

"No one has any faith in me," I muttered. "I thought you were my friends!"

"We are," Nathaniel said, "that's why we know when you're up to something."

* * *

_A/N: The play is kind of my Dragon Age-ified version of Elizabethan/Jacobian court masques. I know the designers say Ferelden is closer to 1200 AD England but I shove them a couple hundred years into the future culturally when it suits my needs. As for newspapers, well, Lady Dace mentions surface broadsheets, so apparently they had them. I wanted something a bit more light and fun after the long serious business of the last chapter. I adore reviews!!**  
**_


	9. Please try not to cause a riot

We had worked on my speech throughout much of the evening. Anders was a better public speaker than me, but once he realized my plan he made me write most of it. "People like _you_," he had insisted. "If it sounds like me this won't work." I had to agree.

"Am I being an idiot? Should I forget the whole thing?"

"I'm sick of them acting like we don't even have a right to be alive," he muttered. "I say do it. Want me to hold your hand while you speak?"

I grinned at him. "You know, that might not be a bad idea."

"What? I was kidding!"

I leaned back in my chair, a plan forming. "Describe my speech to the nobles in Amaranthine."

He looked at me questioningly, but didn't argue. "You're very clearly uncomfortable whenever you have to address people, it's the only time I've ever seen you look frightened. You sounded nervous, or worse. Not about the battle, but about speaking. You seem honest because of it. I think that," he paused, a smile forming. "I think that endeared you to them."

"Exactly. The woman who faces down darkspawn with a laugh but is so scared to speak in public she needs someone to hold her hand?"

"The traumatized mage who can't face a crowd without shaking because of what the Circle did to her?" he added, clapping his hands together. "Maker's breath, when did you get so devious? I love it!"

I grinned back at him. "Hey, you don't spend two years traveling with a bard and live at court for a year after that without picking up a _few_ tricks."

The next morning I met all the recruits in the main hall. The knights eyed the elves cautiously, but it was more confusion than resentment, thankfully. The elves were either unaware of this, or ignoring it. Aidan had approached Anders and I almost immediately after their arrival with Sigrun. "I heard what happened, Nathaniel told Shianni. That templar trick can be nasty business. How are you two?"

I held out my hand, summoning a small fireball. "Back to fighting strength, thankfully. Unlike the Circle they actually let us rest until we felt better here." He nodded, looking relieved.

Once Aidan had rejoined the recruits Anders took me aside. "Should we be doing that?" he asked.

"Doing what?"

"Being, I don't know… friendly. I mean, any of them could die."

I sighed, looking at the group. Ten in total, all of them grinning and looking around excitedly, a few giving Aidan jealous glances since he had talked to us. "I know," I told him. "But I'm not going to be cold to them because of it. If they do, well, consider it making their last days more pleasant, I suppose. I think we should concern ourselves about what's right for them now, not us. We're the Wardens, we know what to expect."

He shook his head. "I just feel guilty, I want to tell them the risks. I know I can't, but I feel bad about it."

"Yeah," I agreed, "I know how you feel." He looked down at me, perhaps remembering how I had cornered him before his joining to dance around the risks.

"I suppose you would."

"Well, better get this moving, I can hear everyone outside getting restless." I gestured to Nathaniel and he walked over, clanking in his plate armor. "Really?" I asked, clinking a fingernail against him.

"I told you," he said. Sigrun and Anders were also in theirs. That Oghren wore heavy armor went without saying. I suspect Anders wore his mostly because I had commented on how good he looked in it, though. "Are we all set?" I asked finally.

"As much as we ever will be. You sure about this?" I had shown everyone a copy of my speech before they left to get the recruits.

I nodded. "Yeah. A bit nervous, but sure. I mean, they were ready to riot in the streets for me. If people like me that much, well, I should do something good with the power, something to help people." I laughed. "I used to know a bard. Here's to hoping some of her skills rubbed off on me."

Alistair came over and nodded at me. "Ready, Commander?" The title was for the new recruits benefit.

"Absolutely, Your Majesty," I answered. He had read my speech, too, but didn't offer comment beyond 'please try not to cause a riot in my city.'

He looked down at me and grinned suddenly. "Aw, I'll miss you, Mags," Alistair exclaimed, picking me up into a bear hug, my feet dangling several inches above the ground. "You need to visit more often!" he added, setting me back down.

"What, you think I sit in the Keep dancing and eating cookies all day?" I teased. "I'm a busy woman! You visit me!" He laughed at that, I noticed several of the recruits staring at us open-mouthed. "Besides," I added, "you'll see us again soon. Honor guard for the wedding, right?"

"Absolutely," Alistair agreed. "All five of you will be here," he added, "that's a royal order." Dropping his voice Alistair added "Varel can babysit the new kids."

I laughed in response as Elissa came over to join us. "They're getting restless outside," she warned. Although Alistair was wearing his usual golden armor she had a blue silk gown on, embroidered with her family crest. "It was _fantastic _to finally meet you," she said, embracing me. I concurred as we got into position to walk out.

"I used to have a dress just like that," I commented as we walked to the door, "but with the Warden heraldry."

"Shame you don't anymore, we could have worn them at the same time. Imagine the talk!"

The guards opened the doors, cutting our discussion short. She and Alistair stepped out first, arm in arm. I followed, with the Wardens behind me, and the recruits last. Seeing how bright it was I found myself relieved I took the time to polish my armor again after waking up. The light would glint off it now, but it would also show off how dented it was from use.

Alistair said something in introduction before stepping aside. I walked forward, looking out on the crowd. Maker, there was a ton of people here, all crowded into the palace gardens and even extending beyond that to the streets. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a breath and remembering how Anders had made me rehearse the night before. I wouldn't have to convince them I was terrified, seeing how many there were I actually was.

"Um, hello everyone," I said, raising my hand in a small wave. "You- You'll have to bear with me, I'm not used to speaking in public. I wrote down what I wanted to say." I offered them a big smile, trying to keep my face innocent, and fumbled with my notes. Dropping them to the ground I hoped it looked accidental.

Anders rushed forward, as we planned, and retrieved the paper for me. He handed it to me, holding my hand for slightly longer than necessary before touching my shoulder in a reassuring gesture. I looked up at him adoringly, he returned the glance. The crowd, who apparently read the same gossip column as Nathaniel, all cheered. I had to fight the urge to giggle.

Notes retrieved, I made a production of unfolding them carefully. "People of Denerim," I began, pitching my voice slightly higher than usual to seem younger. "I'm sure you all know of the attempt on my life two nights ago. Although the specific source of the attack is a mystery and the assassin sent to us is dead," I grinned there, so they could remember that fighting was something I could handle, "I do not doubt _why_ they were sent." A murmur went through the crowd and I waited for them to fall silent again, making a show of consulting my notes.

"I was born in the Arling of West Hill," I said. "When I was four the templars came for me. I haven't seen my family since. My family name was changed and my birth date removed from the records so I could never attempt to contact them." I paused to look appropriately heartbroken. "For two decades I lived under constant observation. I was told, every day, that the Maker had cursed me. I was told that I'm evil, simply for being born. I was told nothing I would ever do could redeem me." The crowd went mad at this point, cursing and shaking their fists.

I gave Anders a nervous glance and he made a show of taking my hand and whispering in my ear. I hoped it looked like he was whispering reassurances, but in reality he just muttered '_you devious little minx_.'

"As I said, I don't doubt _why_ my attacker was sent. It seems, even after all I've done, it isn't enough for some. I hoped, when I became a Warden, if I did enough people would believe in me, and people would finally see mages aren't bad people." I smiled at the crowd before making a sad face. "But it seems nothing I do will ever be good enough."

If they were upset before, people were enraged now. Someone threw their shoe at a templar standing not far from us. Maker's breath, maybe the actors were right. That's a refreshing thought. I raised my hand and the crowd calmed again. "Knowing that," I said, "I have to say how moved I was to discover the concern you had for my safety. That anyone, that so many, would actually care that a mage like me could be hurt… it was overwhelming."

"That is enough to keep me moving forward. I've stopped longing for a family I'll never see again. I now have the Grey Wardens and the people of Ferelden." Anders released my hand so I could cross my arms in salute. The other Wardens did the same a second later, as we planned. The recruits, not entirely understanding what we were up to, glanced at each other before doing the same.

I turned to bow to Alistair and Elissa, waved to the crowd, and walked down the stairs into our wagon. We split up between the wagons, a few Wardens in each to remind the recruits to smile and wave. I took my gauntlet off to reach down and shake hands as we passed by.

The crowd had taken up a chant, shouting "Wardens!" over and over as we left.

"Commander," one of the recruits called from the opposite wagon not long after we left the city gates. I slid over on the bench so I could hear him. We road side by side here, where the road was even and wide. It was one of the knights, I think his name was Arthur.

"Please, call me Maggie," I corrected him. "Wardens titles are a formality."

He looked taken aback by that. "Well," he said, "I don't know how to ask this, but we have a debate going over here." I noticed the entire wagon was staring at me.

"Oh?" I asked, having a good idea what this debate was.

"That, um, speech?" I nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "That was a performance, right? They won't tell us," Arthur said, gesturing to Nathaniel and Sigrun who sat grinning.

Anders groaned. "Were we that obvious?" he asked. "We rehearsed for _ages_."

"No, not obvious," he insisted. Everyone else nodded.

"Truth is," another spoke up, "some of us figured, if we were you, we'd use the attack to drum up as much sympathy for mages as we could." That was Vivian, one of the elves.

"You got me," I admitted. "Sorry, I'm not quite so pathetic a public speaker that I _literally_ need someone to hold my hand through it. How'd I do?" I grinned at them from our wagon.

"Let's say it's a lucky thing someone else already killed the Grand Cleric, I don't think she'd live to see tomorrow otherwise," Rose said with a laugh.

"I can't believe none of us got an arrow through the chest," Nathaniel said.

Sigrun leaned against him, making a dismissive noise. "You're too paranoid, people love us." He looked down at her with shock on his face. Realizing she had no intention of moving I saw him smile, very slightly, and shift so his arm was around her shoulders. She met my eyes and beamed.

We made camp at dusk that night. I noticed one of the knights standing by the wagon looking confused. "Problem?" I asked him.

"I'm stuck waiting until one of your elves to get my bag."

"Why would someone have to get your bag for you?"

He gave me a confused glance. "Well, isn't that their _job_?" I finally realized what he was talking about.

"Maker's breath," I muttered. "What is this, a tea party? We carry our own bags. Be happy we've got a wagon, usually we walk everywhere. Their _job_ is to become a Grey Warden, same as you."

"But," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "they're _elves_." Did he think I wasn't aware of that?

"Is _that_ what the ears mean," I said, putting my hand to my mouth with false shock. "What's your name?" I asked him.

"Roland, Commander."

"Drop that Commander business, I use it in public but never with other Wardens. Can't stand it, to be honest. All it means is I deal with a lot of paperwork, and I really hate paperwork." He gave me a disbelieving look, but didn't say anything. "Everyone here is a Warden or recruit. Do you have a problem with elves?"

"Well, no," he said, looking confused. "I didn't realize they were allowed to be Wardens, but if you say they're worthy I don't have any reason to doubt you."

"Well, Roland, here's your first lesson as a Grey Warden. From now on you have no family and no title. We don't use honorifics and we don't stand much on formality, our jobs are tough enough without adding that nonsense into it. Wardens don't see race or creed, we're all brothers and sisters." He nodded. "This is how it's always been; it isn't me making a statement or whatever." There had always been gossip because of my friendship with Bann Shianni and, of course, my relationship with Zevran. So, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if people thought I changed the Warden rules because of my very public stance on equality among humans and elves. He looked ready to apologize and I shrugged before he could speak. "I know what people say about me, don't worry. I don't live in the clouds. The fourth blight was ended by a Warden who was an elf. We're all the same here, and that's the way it _has_ to be. We can't fight darkspawn if we're fighting among ourselves."

"Understood, Comman- er, Maggie" he nodded. "I promise it's not going to be a problem, I have no issue with elves or anyone else, I just didn't expect it." I nodded, smiling. He was either telling the truth or a very, very accomplished liar. I would wager it was the former, most knights were horrible liars.

After dinner everyone remained around the fire. "So," I said, noticing most were sneaking glances in my direction. "Who wants a story?"

"More of our grand and glorious history, Maggie," Anders teased.

"My favorite kind," I said. "Not so grand or glorious, though, not this one. But this one has an important lesson."

"I'm sure anything you can tell us would prove valuable, Commander," Cormac said.

"Andraste's knickers, please, just Maggie," I insisted again. "Anyways, before me, the Commander of the Grey was a man named Duncan. If I can be half the Warden he was I think Ferelden will be in fine shape. _But_," I added, "before Duncan was a woman named Sophia Dryden. And she died, oh, two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty years ago."

"Now, she was _sentenced_ to join the Wardens since she was a rival for the throne. Not something I agree with, personally. We pick our recruits, I'll gladly take criminals if they've got skills, but I don't think it should be a punishment." There were a few gasps at that. "What, you thought we were all innocents and Chantry sisters?" I laughed, joined by the others. "Your old life ends when you go through the Joining, the slate's wiped clean. _Most_ of us have been criminals, at one time or another." _Let them chew on that a moment_, I thought.

"Even you?" one of them asked.

"_Especially_ me," I quickly replied, grinning to see the shock on their faces. "Doesn't matter anymore, though. I'm a Warden, nothing more. But, back to our sister Sophia. She didn't get the throne, joined the Grey, and rose through the ranks quickly to become Commander. There aren't many women in the order, but what few there are tend to be overachievers." I brushed my nails on my robe and made a cocky grin as I said this and everyone laughed. "Back then people thought of the order, well, like they did maybe five years ago. Relics of a dying age, irrelevant, all that." I waved my hand with disgust. "If only the idiots knew," I muttered. "You'll understand it yourselves soon, after the Joining. So, Sophia turned things around, bolstered the ranks, gave the Wardens a new sense of pride. The man who did get the throne, Arland, was something of a bastard by all accounts. Not _literally _like Alistair, either. Devious, brutal, all that. A bunch of her old noble friends begged Sophia to help overthrow him, with the Wardens."

Aidan looked up at that. "I thought Wardens were supposed to be outside of politics?"

"They are," I agreed. "Now, I admit, I've… bent that rule a bit more than I should. I certainly don't like being the acting Arlessa, that's for sure. But the civil war? Strictly Warden business there. One side actively prevented me from ending a blight, they might as well have allied with the archdemon itself at that point. Sophia didn't share my views, though. In the end it took the _entire army_ of Ferelden to stop the Wardens and Sophia's rebellion. That was after they had to starve them out for months." I noticed most didn't quite follow me yet. "And even then," I added, "the Wardens only lost because they got _sloppy_. One of the mages summoned too many demons, they lost control and turned on both sides. And that," I finished, "is why the Wardens were expelled from Ferelden. Now, who sees my point?"

"Stay out of politics?" one suggested.

"Fine advice for anyone, but no," I answered.

"Don't let anyone use the Wardens as punishment for political rivals?"

"Also fine advice, and something that won't happen as long as I'm in charge. Not quite, though." When no one else offered an idea I smiled. "How many Wardens do you think there were? I mean, this is Ferelden, we're not a large nation."

Shrugs all around. "A thousand?" one asked.

"Maker's breath, no. A hundred. It took the _whole damn Ferelden army_ to take out a hundred Wardens. AND they had to starve them first. AND, it was mostly a lucky break because Sophia and Avernus got careless. _That_ is the point! That is what Wardens are, and what you'll be."

"Is there some secret to it?" Roland asked, looking amazed.

"Sure. Once you fight darkspawn everything else is child's play. That's the secret. We're the best because we have _no choice _and will do anything necessary to win. None of you would be here if you didn't have that potential."

"Come on," Arthur protested, "there's a lot of things tougher than darkspawn."

"Name something," I said.

He shrugged, thinking. "Dragons."

"The archdemon was basically a huge super-powerful corrupted dragon. Which means it's way tougher to kill than a normal dragon. Plus the actual killing gets a bit tricky towards the end, and only a Warden can do it. More stuff for after the Joining. Granted, I've only killed one of those, but I've killed like five standard high dragons." I tried to count on my fingers, paused wondering if spectral dragons or shapeshifters counted and gave up. Five was close enough.

"Why can't you tell us now?" Rose asked. "We're already committed to it, what difference would it make?"

I shook my head. "Nope. After the Joining. You're all recruits now, you don't get the secrets until you're Wardens. Not my rule. Don't ask me to pick between you and my loyalty to the Wardens. The Wardens save the world, and they saved my life. You're all very nice, but I assure you, you won't win."

They exchanged glances. I had a pretty good idea about what was next. There had been a lot of whispering among the recruits on the way here, and I was on their side of the fence not too long ago. I cut them off before they could ask. "No, I can't tell you what the Joining is about. It's a secret ritual. We've all been through it. You'll find out soon enough."

"Can you tell us if it's dangerous?" Aidan asked.

"It is, but I can't say more than that." Changing the subject I grinned. "You see my armor today?" They nodded, looking confused. "The last owner was Sophia. Demons are tricky things. I don't know if it was before she died or not, but she managed to get herself possessed. When I cleared out the old Warden base I took care of that and decided to keep the armor." I laughed at this. "See, that's why you don't let yourself get sloppy. Next thing you know some upstart mage is stomping around in your armor since someone told her it looked good."

Everyone laughed at that and relaxed, the Joining momentarily forgotten.

On watch that night Anders and I spoke very little. "Is this how it was for you before?" he finally asked, voice low.

"With you, Oghren and Mhairi? I think that was harder."

"How so?"

"Well, I'd never conscripted anyone, and I was terrified I'd forced you into something that might kill you. That's why I gave you a chance to leave, you didn't make the choice to take the risk. I figured, after Oghren, you had the best chances, though."

"Why me after Oghren?"

"You ever watch the man fight? All that yelling! I suspect he was half-Warden already before the joining just from accidentally swallowing blood during the blight."

"That much I figured out already," Anders said. "I just wondered why did you think I'd do better than Mhairi, though? She was a trained soldier."

I shrugged. "I don't know, it was just a feeling I had. Like how I knew Sigrun and Nathaniel would be fine." I stretched my legs out, warming them near the fire. "You're all survivors, none of you have ever given up. You didn't look at it like it was a chance for glory or honor. Plus, I suspect mages do better, although I don't really have any proof. Just a suspicion, since our biology is a little bit off from normal people, and I've never heard of a mage dying in the joining."

"I suppose we'll see." I nodded. "Any guesses about this group?"

"None so far, I don't know any of them well enough."

Four of the recruits came out for second watch after a while. I'd insisted they double our numbers since they couldn't sense darkspawn. Tonight it would be Tobias, Vivian, and Rose from the alienage, and Thomas, one of the knights. I made them all promise to wake us at the first hint of trouble before retreating to our tent.

I was making a list of the recruits, visualizing their faces as I wrote so I would remember. Thomas, Roland, and Arthur, those were the knights, all shield and sword warriors. Tobias was an archer. All of the women from Shianni's group, Rose, Vivian and Joanna, were rogues, not surprisingly. Leliana had told me women were naturally better rogues than men since we were more flexible, that was why they were so common. Brendan was a rogue as well, but he used a sword and dagger instead of dual daggers. He was also trained as a lockpick, most of the women were stealth focused, except for Rose who was a bit of a jack of all trades. Cormac was the lone warrior among the elves, he used a two handed sword almost as long as he was tall. Aidan was a mage.

_"I don't like the sound of this Joining," _said a male voice, interrupting me from my notes. I moved near the flap to listen in on the recruits with Anders. He gave me a mischievous grin.

_"Me neither, but nothing we can do about it. It might kill us, but I'm not heading back to Denerim. We either put up or turn back now."_ Another male voice there.

_"Still, all these secrets. I'd heard Wardens were protective of them, but she's too much. Just smiles and shakes her head before changing the subject. It's maddening," _replied the first voice.

_"I heard she was a blood mage," _the second again.

_"Yeah, I heard that, too. Doesn't seem the type, though. Too nice,"_ one of the women now spoke up.

_"She really is. They're all nice. Even the drunk one. Not at all what I expected," _that was the first male voice again.

_"Me neither. I figured they'd be more intimidating, especially her. I expected them to be, I don't know, cold and dour," _she replied to him. _"Both of the mages are nice. And they're like goofy teenagers with the way they look at each other, it's almost **too **sweet. I can't imagine either of them being maleficar." _

Maker's breath, we did that? That was how people saw us? Anders and I shared a glance, he eventually shrugged and brushed my hair behind my ear. "If only they knew," he whispered in my ear. "What a surprise that'll be!"

_"That's no way to tell, though. They don't wear a sign, and if they ran around snickering dressed all in black and muttering to themselves about being evil they'd be found out in a day!"_ Whoever the second man was, he had a head on his shoulders. Smart lad.

_"No, I think for Wardens it's allowed," _said the same woman. Another smart one, or well informed at least.

_"He might be one. The look he gave me could have melted steel."_ The first man said this, Anders snickered beside me and I shushed him.

_"That's just because he caught you checking out her backside, idiot. She's your commanding officer now, for Andraste's sake!"_ This, said by the other woman, made my eyes go wide. Anders grinned at me.

_"Heh, so? She's his commanding officer, too. Rank doesn't seem to matter much to them; maybe I've got a chance. Never been with a mage, I always imagined they were pretty wild."_ I shook my head. Beside me I could see Anders clenching a fist. I took his hand and he relaxed.

_"The paper yesterday said they were halfway to married already, I think you missed your chance there. Just be glad he didn't hit you with lightning, mages are temperamental."_ She may not be universally correct, but she certainly had Anders summed up. And I guess everyone _did_ read the gossip rags.

_"You think they use magic to spice things up? A bit of lightning? Maybe some frost?"_ So glad he was putting so much thought into what Anders and I did in bed. Really, it was just lovely and didn't make me at all uncomfortable. I suppose being object of bizarre sexual curiosity was an improvement over being an object of fear. Not by much, though.

_"It would certainly keep things interesting," _one of them agreed.

_"Wouldn't it hurt?"_ The other woman apparently had no sense of adventure.

_"Sometimes that's not a bad thing. Pleasure, pain, two sides of the same coin. I'd be happy to demonstrate for you after watch." _Oh, we had a real charmer among the recruits. I wondered which of the men that was. It sounded like the same one who found himself on the wrong end of Anders' dirty look.

I shook my head, pulling Anders towards our bedroll before he decided to hit someone with lightning. Well, someone besides me.

* * *

_A/N: Everyone seems to wonder if Zevran will show up! It could be that I'm tossing in foreshadowing or, well, it could just be that his name comes up in passing since Maggie did spend a couple years with him. Exes come up in conversation sometimes, you know. I'll never tell, you'll have to wait and see. Thanks so much for the reviews, I love seeing them!_


	10. I was being all poetic about it

I suspected we could have made it to the Keep by midnight if we pushed on after dark, but didn't want to take the risk with so many untested recruits. Travel after dark, especially with a large loud group, was an open invitation to bandits. Sitting in an open wagon we'd be perfect targets for archers, and we wouldn't be able to keep the wheels or the horses silent. Plus, arriving early in the day meant we could get in and out of the deep roads and to the Joining before assigning anyone quarters. I didn't want to do that until we knew who would actually end up among our ranks. As Oghren had pointed out, assigning someone a room for them to die a few hours later would just disturb everyone whenever they passed the door.

Camp was much more chaotic than the previous night since everyone had an entire day of talking on the wagons to get used to each other. Sigrun was trying to teach several people traditional Dwarven folk dancing at one end, I watched Joanna shake her fist at Cormac for stepping on her foot again, Brendan and Vivian seemed to be having better luck. Nathaniel was watching Sigrun dance with Thomas with a scowl, but kept refusing her invitations to join them. Rose was playing a lute at the other end, accompanying Roland who was singing an old ballad. Everyone else was sparring or cooking. I have to admit, seeing at least one of the recruits had some musical aptitude made me smile. I'd missed Leliana's songs around the fire. I tried not to get too excited, though. Who knew what tomorrow would bring.

Sitting near Oghren I accepted his flask gratefully, but allowed myself just a small sip. Maker only knows what he had in there. "Kind of nice," I said. "Having a lot of people around again."

He shrugged. "Don't want to get attached just yet." I nodded in understanding. Oghren, for all his gruff exterior, was a fiercely devoted friend once you won his trust. Granted, winning that trust wasn't easy, but I couldn't blame him after all he'd been through.

"Me too," I admitted. "I'm surprised; I expected a bit more trouble from the knights after Alistair's warnings."

He laughed at that, almost falling backwards off the log. "You didn't hear? They pulled that with Nathaniel." Laughing again, Oghren straightened his posture. "_That's Ser Whatever_" he said, imitating a noble tone of voice. "Little Nate told them if they pulled that around you they'd be picking their teeth out of their arses. Lectured them on the whole order of equals thing you love so much."

"Good," I said. "That's what I said he should do if he got any attitude. I would have said the same myself, if I wasn't… "

Oghren shook his head, "Nasty business, that attack." I nodded in agreement. "I hear you barreled headfirst into him and knocked him clean off his feet."

"Yep," I said. "Held him with a dagger I'd hidden in my dress while Anders disarmed him."

"That's our girl," Oghren said, clapping me on the back. "But, when I said run headlong into danger I was being all poetic about it. Next time keep the weapon in front, not your skull." I had to laugh at that. "I'll make a real warrior of you yet," Oghren added. He stood up, grabbing his axe. "C'mon, grab your weapons. Let's go." I stood, walking a safe distance from the fire. Oghren stopped me as I was about to cast my arcane warrior spell. "No, Maggie," he said. "You keep fighting templars like this you'll need to do it without magic."

"Fine," I agreed, "but I'm casting a shield. I don't have armor on. I need to change swords, too. This one's magical, I need the spells to wield it properly."

He rolled his eyes so I handed him Spellweaver. Oghren held it for a moment before wincing. "Sodding thing's squirming in my hand like a nug that knows it's dinner!" He handed it back quickly with a look of disgust. "Never felt a weapon that acted like it wanted to get away."

"Magical," I said again. "Only a mage can wield it, and usually only when combined with the proper spells." I ducked into my tent, returning a moment later with Duncan's sword and dagger. "Let's go!"

Oghren swung at me, I did my best to dodge his attacks, jumping or rolling on occasion. At the same time, I tried to twist myself to get into his blind spot and attack. I knew he was going easy on me, but that was just fine. I needed practice, and I wouldn't get much of it if Oghren took my head off in one swoop of his axe, something I'd seen him do many times. I had just started to work up an actual sweat when I realized we were attracting an audience. I tried to hide my disappointment; I wasn't fantastic with blades and would rather not give the recruits the impression that I was incompetent. It was a fine line. I didn't like them acting as though my feet didn't hit the ground when I walked, but I also wanted to make sure they all knew I was perfectly capable of leading us in battle.

Oghren came at me again, swinging low this time so I couldn't duck. I hopped into the air, tossing myself forward and to the left of him, a move I'd picked up from Zevran. Tucking into a roll on the ground before popping back to my feet, I tapped his shoulderblades with the pommels of my weapons. "Trying to make me look good?" I whispered.

"Can't have them thinking you're just some soft mage," he replied. I shook my head and bounced back, waiting for him to charge again. This time I tried to dart towards him right away, but I created an opening. The axe stopped less than an inch from my side, reflecting off my magical shield. "Can't have them thinking I'm a wimp, either," he added. We went back and forth a little while longer until I had to stop, my arms were getting sore.

Rose and Vivian approached me after we were done. "May I see that sword?" Rose asked.

I handed it over. "It belonged to Duncan, he recruited me and died at Ostagar. I normally use another one that's actually designed for a mage, it channels spells just as a staff would." She hefted it a few times, looked me over and looked back at the blade before passing it to her friend, who did the same.

"Have you tried using just two daggers?" she asked. "Many women find it easier, they're not as heavy, and you can be more flexible without taking a long blade into account." She flushed for a moment.

"Not that we're saying you need help or anything," Vivian hastily added. "We just-"

I waved my hand. "I picked up a sword for the first time less than three years ago, believe me, I know I'm far from an expert. I appreciate the advice, I never tried using just daggers," I admitted. "I already have a match for this one, too" I said, gesturing to Duncan's silverite dagger. "It was also Duncan's, he got them when _he_ was conscripted, from his Commander. To be honest, I know several spells that bolster my strength and agility that I'd normally use in combat. After the attack this week I'm trying to get better without relying on any magic. Just in case."

"Well, give it a shot, you might find it easier. I know I do, and yours are much nicer than the garbage we have," Vivian said.

"We have plenty of weapons and armor at the Keep," I assured her, "we'll get you set up properly. Thank the Maker for our brothers and sisters in Orlais, after the attack destroyed our armory they sent us a wagon full of equipment."

"Orlais?!" Rose gasped, looking at me like I'd just told her the archdemon was our head cook.

"I'm Commander of Ferelden, but I serve the world. Wardens don't concern ourselves with things like nationality, we're all one order working for one goal." I shrugged. "Honestly, it's not just like becoming a knight or something, I really can't explain it but I promise you _will_ understand after. I would feel a closer kinship with an Orlesian Warden than I would with a soldier from the Ferelden Army." I leaned towards them, adopting a conspiratorial stance. "I admit, though, I am far more, hmmm… let's say _enthusiastic_ about the order than most Wardens. I don't mean to say they aren't as well, just not to the degree I am."

Rose laughed. "Well, you are the commander, I wouldn't expect anything less." She paused for a moment, evaluating the group. "Can you tell us, have there been many elves in the Wardens?"

"Of course," I said. "Humans are the largest percentage, but there are simply more of us overall in Thedas. We had a dalish woman in our ranks, but she was lost in the attack on our Keep." Ah, there we go, the perfect way to say 'she may have been killed but we all suspect she simply took off since most dead people leave a corpse and she could disappear with magic.' "The hero of the fourth blight, Garahel, was an elf, too, so it's not just rank and file. We have a fantastic painting of him slaying the archdemon, I'm waiting for the main hall to be rebuilt to hang it back up. We don't care about race, or gender for that matter. If you have the skills we want you, and we treat everyone exactly the same."

"People _do _say that about the Wardens," Vivian said, "but…"

"But people say a lot of garbage that isn't true," I finished. She nodded in agreement. "In this case it is."

"So you and him?" Vivian asked suddenly, gesturing to Anders who was casting spells with Aidan. Her grin was loaded with mischief. "That's allowed?" Rose groaned, covering her face briefly.

"Me and him," I said simply. "We're not templars or anything, no vow of celibacy, no rules against fraternizing. We don't have easy lives," I said, mentally adding '_or long._' "I figure might as well find happiness where you can just so long as you don't let things interfere with duty."

"Good to know," she said, smile growing a little broader as she looked over at some of the men sitting by the fire. The two women shared a glance before wandering off.

Anders and I sat keeping the fire going on watch that night. "Home tomorrow," he said.

"Thank the Maker, I miss our room. The palace is nice and all, but the bedrooms don't suit me."

"Too many templars in them," he agreed.

"My thoughts exactly." I heard a rustling behind us and jumped to my feet, reaching for my staff.

"Um… hello," Roland said, looking embarrassed. "I'm just, um…" he shrugged and blushed when I hid my grin with my hand. "Yeah. Well, have a good night."

"Goodnight, Roland," I said as he darted into a different tent.

"I see they're making friends already," Anders quipped when I sat back down.

I shrugged. "Most of them are worried they'll die tomorrow. Some will. Can you blame them?"

"Not at all," Anders agreed. We were surprised again about an hour later when Vivian tried to creep out of her tent. She stammered an apology but Anders waved her off. "Have fun," he added with a grin as she darted into another tent. I had no idea whose it was. Aidan was next, smoothing his slicked back hair as he stomped across the campsite leaving a faint trail of cologne in his wake. He flashed us a grin and thumbs up before slipping into another tent. I couldn't help but grin back. Being from the Circle as well, he was the only one who knew we really wouldn't care what anyone was up to.

"You know," I said, "I kind of want to stand up, call everyone out and tell them just pair up now so they don't keep startling us. I'd feel awful if I hit someone with lightning."

"I don't know, I'm enjoying watching them squirm." He laughed. "I wonder if we should go pick up Nathaniel and toss him in Sigrun's tent."

"Now _there's_ an idea," I said. "It might just put a smile on his face. Or he might kill us for it."

"True enough," he sighed. "I do hope they don't get so caught up in their fun that second watch forgets to relieve us. I'll be very annoyed to be kept from _our_ fun."

I giggled at that before returning my mind to work. "Anyways," I said. "I'm trying to plan out tomorrow. I figure we each take two and head into the deep roads, through the basement door. Just long enough to get everyone a kill and collect some blood."

"I didn't need to collect any blood," Anders said.

"Well, the Keep isn't covered in darkspawn corpses anymore. At least, I hope not. We have been gone a few days, though…"

"Is it usually the deep roads? Seems kind of fitting, starting and ending your life as a Warden in the same place. A kind of creepy and soul crushing symmetry, if you will."

I shrugged. "No idea. I went into the Korcari Wilds for mine. Just figure we're bound to find some darkspawn down there, and that basement entrance is awfully handy."

"Well, that sounds good. I mean, even I should be able to keep an eye on two recruits."

"I would hope so," I laughed. "Tradition says the junior member of the order would do it, but I don't want to stick Sigrun with ten green people, that's way too many for one Warden."

Anders nodded in agreement, looking horrified at the thought of leading that many people. Once we were finally relieved he pulled me into our tent, muttering "our turn."

He was sitting up in our bedroll when I woke, looking forward. "So, just a few more hours," Anders said. "We'll see how they fare."

I leaned into his shoulder. "Just remember we do what we have to. If there were no Wardens…" I was reminding myself as much as him.

"I know," he said. "Believe me, I know. Doesn't make it any easier to look them in the eye, knowing they might choke on darkspawn blood." He sighed. "They're all so _young_, too. I swear there couldn't be a single one over five and twenty."

"That's older than I was," I reminded him, "I'm only six and twenty now. I think. And I know for a fact some of them are older than I am. Hate to tell you, but in terms of new Wardens you're an old man. Well, for a human or an elf. A lot of dwarves are older but they live a bit longer than us to begin with."

"What?" he looked at me, shocked.

"Sorry. Not many recruits over thirty, that's what Riordan told me. He had been your age, and that was apparently unusual." Granted, this was right before we put perhaps the oldest Warden recruit _ever_ through the Joining.

"Well now I feel ancient."

I laughed. "Think about it. Thirty years as a warden? How many men would still be able to wield a blade at sixty? We're mages, that's another story. Wynne kept up with me throughout the blight and she has to be in her seventies at least."

"And here I looked forward to getting good and soft in my old age," Anders remarked with a chuckle.

"Come on," I prodded him. "Let's get home."

We made good time, arriving at the Keep by lunch. While we had all sung drinking songs yesterday, and I even shared a few of the old songs Loghain had taught me from the occupation, today we were subdued. I noticed that, despite the activities of the previous night, no one seemed to have paired up. That was a slight relief, dealing with the guilt of being among the survivors was tough enough without adding some level of heartbreak into the mix. Even us Wardens kept quiet, sharing occasional nervous or guilty glances.

Varel jogged out to meet us when the wagons pulled in. I was thrilled to see workmen had started on Master Wade's shop. It would be good to have our own smith again, and I hoped he would be happier now since I insisted the building be enclosed like his store in Denerim instead of open like the old one. Wade was constantly complaining about the cold, even leaning over his forge. Plus, if they were working on the smithy, it meant the kitchen had been completed.

Hopping down from the wagon I gripped Varel's arm in greeting. "Take a look," I said, passing him a box Alistair had given me. He opened it and gasped. "Yep. Eight _thousand_ sovereigns for the repairs. Main hall and stairs next."

He glanced down into the box. "And then some."

"Good. I've got some ideas!"

Varel shook his head at that. Looking up, his eyes scanned over the large group. "Maker's breath, ten? I'm impressed, Maggie."

"Oh, you won't even believe the half of it," I told him. "I assume we have a kitchen again? Let's have them make a big lunch for everyone and we can tell you about our trip." He nodded, smiling, and I pulled him aside. "Have someone start building the pyre," I said when I was satisfied no one could hear us. Varel's grin crashed to the ground. "And send a fast rider for a priest. Not the Revered Mother, if possible, she loathes me and I won't have her disrespecting a Warden funeral. Get Moira, she's nicer. We'll have services for any who don't make it tomorrow morning." He nodded, understanding.

An hour later we were sitting in the dining hall. It was basically still a bare stone room with a few makeshift wooden supports here and there, but the new dining table had finally been finished. The old table barely filled a quarter of the room. This one was massive; it fit all of us with space to spare. I would still need to worry about getting a real mess hall set up eventually, one that would hold a hundred or more, but for now this would do.

"So you turned the assassination of the Grand Cleric and an attack she arranged against you into a huge support rally for mages and Wardens," Varel said, eyes wide.

"You should have seen her," Sigrun said. "The crowd went nuts."

Nathaniel nodded. "I thought she was going to get us all killed, but the people loved it." He shook his head. "It kind of scares me how easily Maggie can play helpless and innocent."

I fumbled with my knife, sending it skittering across the table. "Blast," I sighed. "Can you help with this? I'm all thumbs today." I passed Nathaniel the crusty white roll the kitchen had made up.

"Sure," he said, cutting it in half and handing it back. At the last moment his hand froze. "Maker's breath, you just-"

"Got you good," Oghren said, laughing.

"Fine," he said, "I'm keeping the bread for that."

Once the meal was over and the recruits had gotten over their shock of realizing we actually ate like that all the time and not just at camp, we all armed ourselves and I gathered everyone in the main hall. We had carried our bags and trunks back upstairs, but the recruits' items were all in the hall stacked neatly to one side.

"All right," I said, "everyone who specializes in ranged attacks stand over there," I pointed. Tobias stepped aside. "Aidan, unless you're a mage who can only attack by touch, that means you, too." He laughed and joined Tobias. Most people thought of bows and crossbows when they thought of ranged attacks, not magic.

I looked at the rest of the group. "OK, rogues to the left, warriors to the right." The group was slightly weighted in favor of rogues.

"Tobias, with Oghren, Aidan, with Sigrun." That was easy, one ranged fighter per group.

"Vivian, you're with Oghren, Arthur, with Sigrun." I glanced over the remaining recruits. "Thomas and Rose go with Nathaniel, Cormac and Brendan with Anders, Roland and Joanna with me."

I nodded with satisfaction. One ranged attacker, one rogue, and one warrior per group, "I love when things work out," I added aloud. Varel handed me a bag of glass vials. I gave one to each recruit. "We're going into the Deep Roads," I began. "We have an entrance in our basement with a barrier door. Once there we'll seek out some darkspawn, kill them, and you all bring back a vial of blood."

"We're going to _look for_ darkspawn?" Tobias said, eyes wide.

"Yep. You have to kill at least one before you become a Warden."

"How do we find them," Rose asked.

"All Wardens can _sense_ darkspawn," Nathaniel said. "That's not just a saying or a myth, it's true. We can find them, and we can make sure you don't get ambushed."

"Any questions?" I asked.

"Is this the Joining?" Roland asked.

"This is preparation for it. The Joining will take place as soon as we get back."

"Is this the dangerous part you mentioned?" Thomas asked me.

I glanced over at the rest of the Wardens. "No, this isn't. That's all I can tell you now. If anyone has second thoughts this will be your _last chance_ to back out." No one said anything, but they looked at each other. I hoped they realized how serious I was. I thought back to Duncan cutting Jory down at our joining and knew someday I would have to do the same thing. Hopefully not today, though. "All right," I said finally when I waited long enough. "Let's get moving."

We headed out of the Keep. The upper levels of the basement access building were gone, but Varel had cleared the stairway for us and the workmen had installed a makeshift door over it. Everyone pounded down the stairs after me, hesitating only briefly at the ladder. Finally, we made it to the old barrier door. I glanced around. "OK, Anders, Oghren, and Nathaniel, your groups go ahead. Sigrun and I will stay here with our groups to make sure none slip past you into the keep. When you get back we'll head out."

"How did you decide that," Sigrun asked with curiosity.

"We've got two mages who can heal, one there one here. Also, I'm the best at sensing darkspawn. From here I'll know if there's a problem better than I would isolated out there. Plus, they can sense _me_, so I'd rather go out in a smaller group. None of you have been Wardens long enough for that yet."

"I can heal, too," Aidan said.

"I was counting you. I _can't_ heal. Not decently, at least. In a life or death situation I can manage, but it'll scar horribly at best."

Roland looked at me. "You can't heal? _You_?"

"Yes, me," I said, laughing. "Why, did you hear otherwise?"

"No," he replied. "It's just," he shrugged, "you're, well, _you_. The Hero of Ferelden. The legend. I didn't think there was anything you couldn't do."

I shook my head. "Sorry to disappoint, I'm afraid the stories about me are a bit overblown."

"What kind of magic can you do?" Arthur asked me.

"I focus on Primal, that's the school dealing with elemental powers. Fire, ice, lightning, earth. It's a combat school. The First Enchanter once told me I was the best he'd ever seen, but I think he was just saying that in the hopes that it would keep me in line. Didn't work." I shrugged with a grin. "I used to be good at entropy but I don't use it much anymore, so I'm rusty. Attacks to confuse or misdirect don't work great on darkspawn, since they're mostly mindless to begin with."

"So the Circle basically trained you to be the ideal combat mage?" Joanna asked.

"No, they don't pick our specializations. Every mage has a natural affinity for one school or another. So if anyone made me the ideal combat mage it would be the Maker. I picked a few things up after leaving, too."

Aidan cast me a glance, a grin forming. "And what did you learn outside the Circle?"

"Battlemage, of course. It wasn't taught until recently, after I left the Circle, but I got the manuals and learned on my own. I'm the first Arcane Warrior in a few hundred years. Ancient lost Dalish technique, helps you turn magical power into strength for mages who fight with blades and in close combat wearing armor." He looked impressed with that idea. "I could teach you, I taught Anders not long ago. Amazingly useful stuff." I paused, thinking. "Hm, I can do a bit of shapeshifting, but nothing helpful. Housecat or wolf is pretty much it, both utterly useless in combat." Eyes widened at that, I shrugged. I didn't want to tell them about the blood magic, not yet at least.

We stood in silence for a bit, watching the deep roads. "Something," I said raising my hand. I closed my eyes and stepped forward, since being close to another Warden had been triggering false alarms for me recently. Sigrun held the recruits back. I returned a moment later. "Someone's on their way back. Not darkspawn, Warden."

"You can pick up Wardens now?" Sigrun asked me.

"Yeah, that's new. Last couple weeks or so. I almost had a heart attack the other day, I woke up and thought darkspawn were nearby but I was just sensing Anders next to me. Duncan told me it _might _happen, but it's not a given. I thought I was getting _really_ good at it just before we left, but it turns out I was thrown off by being around Alistair. His joining was six months before mine, so he's even more-" Realizing I was saying too much I snapped my jaw closed after uttering "We'll talk later." Sigrun glanced from the recruits to me and nodded in understanding. A moment later I saw Anders turn a corner and wave at us, grinning.

"Am I first?" he asked, pulling me into his arms for a quick kiss, pausing only for a moment to wipe the darkspawn blood that had splashed onto him off his mouth first. I wondered briefly what that was about, but figured he would explain later. I suspected it was more than just him missing me after being apart for an hour or two. "Ha! Can't wait to tell that ale swilling mountain of belches I beat him back."

"How did it go?"

"Easy," he said. "We found a group right away. Not many, either. Less than ten. No problems. There is a big group wandering around out there, though, so watch out." I glanced at Cormac and Brendan. Both looked slightly queasy and didn't seem to share his assessment, ether that it was easy or that less than ten qualified as not many. Not that I could blame them, Maker knows I would have thought the same at one point.

"You two all right?" I asked them. They nodded slowly. I walked closer to them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "Look, they're horrifying at first, we all think so. Maker's breath, the first time I saw darkspawn I had been out of my apprenticeship for all of two weeks and almost passed out in terror. I totally froze and Alistair had to come up behind me and scream 'move it, recruit,' in my ear. I _promise_ you, it gets so much easier." Sigrun and Anders both voiced an agreement to that. "Why don't you two have a seat and relax a bit." They both muttered a thanks and shuffled over to sit against the wall. I pulled Anders aside, out of earshot from the group. "Well?"

"Cormac got rather ill, and I think Brendan didn't only so he could hold it over his head." I shrugged, that wasn't an abnormal reaction. "When it came down to it, though, they both fought. Neither panicked in battle, neither ran. They saved the vomiting for later. Both spent far too much time discussing you while we looked for darkspawn." I raised my eyebrow at that. "Evidently I'm a very lucky man," Anders went on, "and they detailed exactly why." Well, that would explain his little show of territoriality when they returned. I was curious as to what, specifically, they mentioned, but I could tell it wasn't the time to ask. Anders was visibly annoyed just bringing it up. I put my arms around his neck.

"Don't be jealous," I whispered, kissing him again.

"I'm not," he said. "Well, not usually."

"The novelty will wear off soon," I promised. "I'm a lot less exciting once you realize I don't float into rooms on a cloud of magic and kill darkspawn with a glance." Anders cast me a dubious look but the return of Nathaniel and Oghren's groups cut our conversation off. Nathaniel was talking to the recruits softly. Trying to calm them down as I had been, I guessed.

We walked over, joining them. "How did it go?" I asked. Tobias and Vivian looked a bit queasy, but Rose and Thomas were all but beaming.

"Would it sound strange to say that was kind of fun," Rose asked me.

"Well, not to _us_," I told her. "Although I've found though personal experience most people find it odd when I say that." I pulled Oghren and Nathaniel aside to see how their groups fared, finding they were basically the same as Anders' results, and Thomas was doing a phenomenal job of hiding that he had been violently ill after killing his first darkspawn. With a final warning to stay put and guard the entrance I glanced at Sigrun. "Our turn," I said.

"About time," she replied, grinning.


	11. What, you think I charge by the spell?

_FYI, this is the second of two chapters I posted today, so if you just popped to the most recent and it makes no sense, that's why._

* * *

"Hold," I said, raising a hand. Sigrun and the four recruits fell silent. Focusing my mind I picked them out. A small band of darkspawn was further along the deep roads, not far from us. I closed my eyes to focus better. "That way," I said after a moment. "Perfect group if we stick together. All genlocks and hurlocks, maybe fifteen of them."

"Sounds good," Sigrun agreed.

"There are _six_ of us," Arthur said.

"I know," I answered. "And only three have fought darkspawn before. That's why we're going after the stragglers instead of the big group in the other direction. There's like fifty of _them_." I made sure not to giggle at the play of emotions across his face. "Don't worry," I said. "We're not asking you to do anything we haven't done. Honestly, Sigrun and I could take down fifteen ourselves. We're here to keep you safe, but not to make this easy. Being a Warden _isn't_ easy." I didn't remind him that he _wanted_ to be a Warden. What did he think it entailed? Pairing off for nice even one on one matches?

I let Sigrun take over the lead position as we got closer; she wanted to work on her ability to sense the direction of darkspawn. She raised a hand and we stopped. They were around the next corner, but I waited for her to tell everyone.

"Up there," she said softly. "Just around the bend. Get ready." Aidan gripped his staff, the others all removed weapons. She nodded and took off in a run, launching axe-first into a hurlock. I was right at her heels. With a spell I froze a genlock solid, and with a whack from my staff as I bolted by he shattered.

I swapped staff for sword and spun around casting frost spells with one hand and swinging the blade with my other. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Aidan casting lighting at one of them, and Roland smashing another with his shield. Joanna had a dagger in each hand, and was looping behind the ones Arthur was targeting to backstab them. Sigrun met my eyes and we both stepped back, letting the recruits take care of it but watching for trouble. Finally, the group was down.

"Work fast," I said as we set about filling the blood vials. Arthur and Joanna had returned sheepishly, wiping their mouths from being sick in a corner. Sigrun glanced up at me, getting a hint of the same thing I was sensing, and I nodded. The larger group had picked me out and was moving our way. I didn't think they were close enough to hear us, so it must have been me. Blood collected, we turned back. I could sense them growing closer. There were perhaps fifty, and at least a few of the more difficult targets among them.

"Andraste's tits," I muttered, realizing we could be intercepted before reaching the barrier. "Okay, everyone," I said, "we're going to start running. Straight shot back to the keep, don't stop."

Looking nervous they nodded. I didn't really care if I scared them, I'd rather they run and be scared then face ten to one odds with just two Wardens. Our group was faring much better than the others, but it still wouldn't be a good idea. I stood still, letting Sigrun lead and bringing up the rear so I could make sure no one fell behind. When we were in sight of the barrier I could hear the darkspawn behind us in the distance.

"Go go go!" I shouted, causing everyone at the door to snap to attention. "Wardens, to us!" The recruits thundered towards the barrier as Anders, Nathaniel, and Oghren tore off in the opposite direction, joining Sigrun and myself. "Let's make this look good," I laughed, readying myself for the approaching group.

An ogre was in the lead. I froze it and moved on to another quickly, allowing Oghren to shatter the thing. Spinning around, I cast lightning, sending three genlocks back into a wall. A blast of flame followed and they crumpled to the floor. I was working away at one of the emissaries, freezing and stabbing in alternate motions. Seconds after it fell a hurlock scout snuck up behind me, sinking a dagger into my shoulder.

"Sodding bastard," I snarled, whipping around before he could retrieve his blade and freezing him in place. A conjured stone hurdled into him soon after, sending bits of frozen shattered darkspawn flying. "Another emissary," I pointed, trying to get the knife out of my back with one functional arm. I gave up, letting it stay while my sword hung uselessly from my hand. I cast with the opposite arm, keeping the grunts clear of the others so they could deal with the bigger threats.

"Got it," Anders replied, darting over, his robes a blur of blue, gold and green, to cast a mana clash spell. Nathaniel followed him, finishing the now-powerless darkspawn mage with arrows. A final ogre remained, tossing his arms back in defiance as he roared and sending Oghren flying with a kick. Nathaniel set a row of arrows into him while Anders and I cast lightning. Sigrun nimbly hopped up, using the arrows as footholds, to stab the beast in the neck while Oghren, back on his feet, swung his axe at the legs, cutting him off above the knees. I cheered watching him go down.

Nathaniel took my sword and replaced it on my back for me after deftly pulling out the dagger. "Thanks," I told him, as the five of hiked back to the wide-eyed recruits. "You know, we're pretty damn awesome," I said. He laughed and nodded in agreement.

Once beyond the door Roland helped Nathaniel with the controls for the ancient dwarven barrier while Anders gestured for me to sit still. "Heh," I said, as I sank to the floor with a grin. "Exciting. But, I guess I can't do that anymore."

"What, fight like a rogue while armored like a mage?" Anders quipped.

"I mean go out with recruits. I'm far enough along that they can sense _me_ now. The big group must have picked up on me, that's why they came after us." I sighed. "Right, new rule. Recruits will be accompanied only by Wardens who've been in long enough to sense the darkspawn, but not so long the reverse is true." I sighed. "I suppose its back to boring paperwork for me while you get all the fun."

"Maggie," Anders said, sounding annoyed, "I want you to start wearing leathers. If you insist on throwing yourself into the fray you can't keep dressing like a mage. These robes aren't meant to protect you in close combat." He deftly unbuttoned the fur caplet of my robe, tossing it into my lap, while he examined the stab wound.

"It's _nothing_," I protested. "It wasn't even a _sword,_ just a sodding dagger. I use a bigger knife to cut apples!"

"Yes, and if you were wearing leather like Sigrun and Nathaniel it wouldn't have even broken your skin," Anders reminded me. In truth, it was really starting to hurt now that the fight was over. But, I didn't want the recruits to see me in pain, and I really didn't like the idea of giving up my robes. They could figure out how often I got hurt soon enough. Leather armor just seemed so stiff and uncomfortable, and it was never enchanted the way I liked. Plus, it was short. _Really_ short. The idea of showing that much leg, without even stockings, made me wince. Not that I was a prude, I just didn't relish the idea of displaying the roadmap of scars I had there to the world. Anders wasn't being entirely honest, after all. Robes did offer some degree of protection because of their enchantments. That was why my scarring was worst where they didn't cover me- on my legs, arms, face, and a fairly impressive one from a Shriek on the back of my neck. People saw scars and they tended to ask what happened. Saying "the archdemon clawed me" or "that's where I got bit by a werewolf" was a good way to make strangers very, very nervous. People were nervous enough around me already.

"Fine, fine. Have your fun. It looks a lot like 'stupid' from where I'm standing, but what do I know, I'm only the man who patches you up." He gave a dramatic sigh as his hands brushed across my skin, fingertips cool against me. I closed my eyes and waited for the spell, forcing myself not to wince as skin stretched over the cut and healed itself.

"All right," I said with a sigh, fixing my robes. "I'll _think_ about switching to light armor." I could always see about getting leather leggings for under them. Maybe.

"That's all I ask," he said, helping me to my feet and kissing me on the forehead. "Eeaugh, darkspawn blood." Anders made a face and spit on the ground before turning on Oghren to check him for injuries. "Anyone else?" Anders asked, once Oghren's broken ribs were set. Everyone shook their head and we started back.

"You," I heard Anders shout, "Recruit, er… Arthur. Stop." I turned to look, Anders had an annoyed expression on his face as Arthur, with a very obvious limp, walked over to him. "You were not _limping_ before. Let me see."

"It's really nothing, not a break. I just twisted it a bit fighting."

Anders rolled his eyes. "What, you think I charge by the spell. Maker's breath, let me take a look at it." Arthur looked ready to argue again until he saw me standing there watching. He sat down, pulling his boot off with a wince and rolling his sock down. Anders took his calf in hand and examined the ankle. "Not broke, but it is sprained badly. Left alone it would have swollen, and tomorrow you wouldn't have been able to get your boot on." He shook his head, adopting his lecturing voice. "It would have hurt for a week or more, and perhaps caused you problems for the rest of your life."

"Sorry," Arthur apologized. "I didn't think it was a big deal, I don't want anyone to fuss over me."

"I'm a healer, that's what we do," Anders replied, casting a spell. Arthur looked vaguely disgusted as the magic worked at his injury. Anders didn't notice, he was too focused on the task at hand. A moment later he released the leg. "Good as new."

"I'll catch up to you," I whispered to Anders as he climbed to his feet. He gave me a strange look but nodded and walked ahead briskly to rejoin the others. I waited for Arthur to relace his boot. "Why did you do that?" I asked, looking down at him.

"Do what?" he replied nervously. "Like I said, I don't want to be a bother."

"Right," I muttered. "And I'm secretly Her Holiness the Divine. Ssssh, don't tell anyone." I offered him a hand to help him up, after a moment's hesitation he reached, pulled his arm back again, and then finally accepted. I wasn't surprised. "Not comfortable with mages?"

He gave me an embarrassed glance. "No, I… I guess not. I'm sorry. You both seem nice and all but…"

"You don't need to apologize," I told him. "Most people aren't, and since you've most likely been told we're all monsters and Maker-knows what else your whole life, I can't blame you. You've done a good job of keeping it to yourself to this point, and you fought alongside me and Aidan without a blink, which is excellent and exactly what I would hope for. But, you need to move past it completely, at least as far as Anders is concerned."

He gave me a strange look, most likely wondering why I specified Anders and not myself or all of us. "Hey, I know I can seem scary," I admitted. "I'd rather you _not_ be afraid of me, since I swear I'm pretty much harmless unless you're a darkspawn, but I understand how it is. Anders is our healer, though. You _cannot_ hide injuries because you're uncomfortable with magic; it puts every single one of us at risk to have one member of the group at less than peak." Guilt flashed across his face and he nodded. "Look, I'll let you use poultices when appropriate. I'm not unreasonable, but I need to think of everyone's safety. Say you're hurt and we don't know. I see you with a genlock or something and assume everything's fine. You end up getting overtaken by something you normally could have handled, and it breaks through to stab someone else who wasn't expecting it since we all figured you had the situation in hand. Then we've got two Wardens hurt or killed because you didn't get an injury treated."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't think of it that way. You're completely right."

"Don't apologize, just promise it won't happen again. You get hurt you let someone know. Got it?"

"Got it," Arthur agreed, looking guilty.

"How's the ankle?" I asked. He took a few steps, and then rested his weight on it, flexing.

"Honestly?" Arthur gave me a sheepish grin, "I wouldn't even know it had been hurt."

"Hey, see, we mages are good for a few things." I smiled, hoping he realized I wasn't offended. "Come on, let's catch up to the others." Most people were terrified of mages, after all. Well, they had been, perhaps not anymore given what we saw in Denerim. But it was a common attitude, and had been for centuries. That he didn't balk at fighting with two of them spoke volumes. If he had refused, or spent too much time in battle avoiding us, I would have sent him packing. I've got no use for someone who can't focus on the task at hand because their own team scares them as much as the enemy. I wasn't _thrilled_ he was afraid of us, but I was used to that reaction. Hopefully, after he got to know everyone, and realized we were people first and mages second, it would pass.

_If he lives through today_, I reminded myself.

Back at the Keep I collected the blood vials from everyone and passed them off to Varel. The recruits all stormed into one of the large public washrooms on the ground floor, thankfully undamaged enough to be functional, while we went upstairs to clean up in our rooms.

"What was that all about," Anders asked me once the door had closed, sounding annoyed. Ser Pounce-a-lot, still annoyed at being left behind while we were in Denerim, skittered under the bed.

I looked at him and shook my head after taking in his expression. "Maker's breath, Anders," I groaned. "Why are you Ser Jealousy all the sudden?"

"I'm not," he protested. "Fine, well," he added after a moment, "maybe a bit. They're all _looking_ at you, and talking about you. I suppose it does bother me. A little." He sat on the edge of the bed. "I always forget you're a living legend to most people, not just Maggie. I should get used to it."

I sat next to him. When he didn't move I grabbed his arm and pulled it around me. "You want to know something?" I asked him.

"Hm?"

"Remember when we met, not back in the tower, but here, the day I arrived." He nodded and I went on. "The first thing I liked about you, you know, besides that I thought you were absolutely gorgeous before you even opened your mouth," Anders puffed up at that and I grinned, "was that you never treated me like I was some kind of 'living legend,' just a normal person." I thought back. "In fact, you treated me like you thought I was completely out of my mind. It was wonderful."

"So," he said, relaxing, "absolutely gorgeous?"

"Maker's breath, you _know_ you are," I groaned. "Aren't you the one who said fishing for compliments demeans us both?"

"Yes, but that wasn't when we were talking about _me_. And I still think you're completely out of your mind. You just have enough good qualities to overshadow that. It's a shame that eventually your insanity will catch up to you when a thin bit of enchanted cloth isn't enough to stop some darkspawn sword, and I'll end up having to spend the rest of my days sad and alone, drinking with Oghren."

I groaned. "Fine. You win. I'll wear stupid sodding armor. Happy?"

"Very," he replied, kissing me on the cheek. "I've never been a jealous person. I don't know why I am now. I can deal with being overshadowed by you; I really don't mind it. I certainly like knowing I'm the one who makes the great hero moan and scream every night." I hit him on the shoulder and he snickered. "Hey, I'm just saying!"

"Charming as always," I said. "And I think you've forgotten, you're quite the legend these days, too. Hero of Amaranthine, remember? You think I don't notice how women look you over everywhere we go? Even a few of the recruits have been peeking when they think I won't notice."

"Really?" he said. "Huh, I never realized, I was too busy staring down everyone that glanced your way. Maybe turning into some hulking territorial idiot is part of the whole darkspawn tainted Warden package."

"Not that I've ever heard of," I admitted.

"No, I didn't think I could get away with blaming that," he chuckled. "So, really, what was that about?"

"Arthur, it seems, is a bit afraid of mages, that's why he didn't mention being injured. I had to give him a lecture."

He paused for a moment. "A lecture? _You_?!" he laughed at that. "What? Be nice to us or I'll freeze you?"

I snorted. "No, more like 'Get over this since if you stomp into battle hurt and get someone else killed as a result I'll be very, very angry.' Don't worry, I was nice about it. I don't think he even thought far enough ahead to realize an injury could impact everyone fighting with him."

Anders stood and walked over to his closet. "Well, knowing that I _really_ feel silly for getting worked up."

"And you should," I replied. "What did you think? I sent you off so I could say 'hey, I'm _totally_ going to abandon the man I've spent every waking and nearly every unconscious moment of the last year with for you, person I just met'?"

"Not when you put it like _that_," he admitted, laughing.

We shrugged off our bloody robes, replacing them with the official Warden ones. After a moment's thought I brushed out my hair, deciding to clip it back instead of wearing a cowl. A knock came at the door. I opened it, admitting Sigrun and Nathaniel, both dressed in clean Warden leathers. Oghren arrived a moment later in Warden plate. It seemed we were all on the same page.

I quickly summarized how I thought we could perform the Joining, everyone seemed to agree with my plans. I could hear the recruits in the main hall voicing their nerves as we walked down the stairs.

_"I'm telling you, I don't like this. I've got a bad feeling."_

_"Did you see how they fought? And against so many?"_

_"It was like watching a dance, how they all moved together. I've never seen anything like it!"_

_"They've been fighting together for a year, you get to know people at your side. I've never seen it done with so many different skills working together, though."_

_"True enough. It'll be interesting to fight alongside mages and rogues."_

_"This building is amazing, I can't believe we're really going to live here. It's as big as the royal palace! There must be a hundred rooms in it."_

_"Are you always this easy to impress, Vivian? Half of its burnt to a crisp!"_

_"Yeah, but they're fixing it. And that doesn't change how big it is."_

_"Hey, you want to see something big? I'll sho-"_

_"Ugh, quit that you pig. We're about to become Grey Wardens, be serious."_

_"Anyone else get the feeling there's more to this joining than they're all letting on?"_

_"I heard there was a chance it could kill you."_

_"Andraste's blood, I'd hope they tell us if that was the case."_

_"Why? No one would join if they knew that. Seems like a good thing to keep secret."_

_"Good for **them**, maybe. Not for us!"_

I took the next step loudly, not wanting to take them by surprise. As expected everyone went silent. Walking to the front of the room we lined up, Varel had brought in a small table with two chalices, we couldn't fit the poison for so many in one.

"The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight," I began, "when all of Thedas stood on the brink of annihilation. The best the world had to offer, humans and elves, dwarves and mages, those who had known nothing but darkspawn and war since they were born, banded together. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and, in doing so, mastered their taint."

"Maker's breath," Roland gasped. "We're supposed to drink their _blood_?"

"That is the greatest secret of the Grey Wardens," Nathaniel spoke up. "We did before you, and all Wardens have before us. _That_ is the source of our power."

"Anyone who survives will be immune to the darkspawn taint," Sigrun said. "We use it to sense them, we use it to slay the archdemon, and we use it to fight on without falling to the plague."

"Survive?" Arthur choked out.

"Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. We all will eventually, but some may be asked to pay it today" I said. "It's a burden we carry in secret, for the sake of the world." No one else spoke up. I was glad to have anticipated their reactions, so we had answers ready. Seeing us stammer wouldn't have made this easier on anyone. "We speak a few words before the Joining. These have been said since the first." I stepped back, taking my place in line.

"Join us, brothers and sisters," Oghren began.

"Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant," Sigrun continued.

"Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn," Anders said.

"And should you perish," Nathaniel recited. "Know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

"And that one day, we will join you." I concluded.

I had decided, since the five of us together basically ran the Wardens as a committee and, if given the choice, would continue to do so until our respective Callings, we should all take part in the ritual.

I took up the first chalice, Nathaniel the second. "You don't have to," I whispered to him. I had planned to be the only one to actually hand the blood to them; I didn't want the others to share in the guilt. I don't have many responsibilities as commander, but I figured this was one of them.

"I'm second in command," he whispered back. "Yes, I do. You shouldn't carry all this alone." I could only nod to him gratefully in response, even as I thought I should refuse. Nathaniel, of all people, had enough on his conscience. But then, so did I. 'A burden shared is a burden halved,' one of my teachers had been fond of saying. I never really believed it, but at this moment I hoped there was some truth to be found in the phrase.

Everyone had lined up to face us as we spoke, so Nathaniel and I stepped to the center. Working our way out to the ends of the line I found myself proud to see none of the recruits hesitated, even to the last. No one challenged us, and no one balked even when they saw firsthand what could happen. All ten stepped forward, heads high, and accepted the chalice without a pause.

Once it was done six lay on their backs, offering soft noises of protest as the darkspawn assaulted their dreams_._

* * *

_I know, I know, I'm an evil woman. As always, I adore reviews!_


	12. Perhaps we can set it to music?

Looking across the line I winced. Six new Wardens to join us, four who wanted to but didn't. I knew it wouldn't be easy on them, either, since it was clear many had come with friends. The blood seemed to ignore race and gender, killing at random. I wished there was some reliable way to predict who would survive, so we could just recruit those with a fighting chance.

Arthur and Roland survived of the knights, but Thomas, who I suspected was the charmer on the night watch, didn't. Aidan lived, making me wonder once again about mages and the Joining. Rose lived, her friend Vivian who offered me fighting advice and had blushed when we caught her sneaking into someone else's tent last night, didn't. Cormac had lived, but Joanna, who he had been constantly sharing jokes with since we left Denerim, didn't. The blood didn't even seem to care about reactions to the darkspawn. Tobias, who had gotten sick after facing them, lived, while Brendan, who teased everyone for not handling it with a smile as he did, died.

We quickly set about the grisly business of dealing with the bodies so it would be done once the recruits woke. Stripping them of armor and weapons, since it would be wasteful for an order as strapped for resources as we were, and because it made the cremation more difficult, we set the items aside in neat separate piles. Once that was done and they were reduced to what they had on under their armor, after checking the pockets for mementos their friends might want, we wrapped the four who didn't make it in white linen. A Warden's possessions reverted to their brothers and sisters in the order when they died, I planned to let the recruits divvy everything as they saw fit among themselves.

Varel went out of the room with the chalices and returned with a handful of guards, they wordlessly carried the shrouded bodies out to the pyre. Some glanced at the sleeping Wardens (_not recruits,_ I reminded myself, _they're Wardens now_) with curiosity, but I knew they wouldn't say anything. Since the attack on the Keep and Amaranthine the survivors seemed to hold the order itself in as much reverence as, well, I did. I had told them all, not long after I arrived to take command, that they may see things which were confusing when we inducted new members, and I hoped they would keep that knowledge to themselves. Even if we barred them from the room and burned the bodies ourselves in secret someone would eventually realize not everyone that came in went out again. Since they had now faced darkspawn in their home twice and watched us cut through them without hesitation both times, and most directly credited myself, Oghren and Anders for their survival the first time, and Nathaniel for second, I knew our secrets would be safe. Besides, all they knew was that not everyone survived. They might assume it a feat of skill or a dangerous task, not the specifics. I'd wager the actual process wouldn't even make the long list of ideas, since they never saw the drink set out, or the empty cup after. As far as everyone outside the order knew, drinking darkspawn blood or consuming their flesh was universally fatal.

"Six? Is that good?" Anders asked, looking pale.

"I think a little over half is average, but I'm not sure," I said. "I do know I've had better results than normal up until now."

Varel stood back, waiting for the recruits to wake up. "I've had the staff get six bedrooms ready," he said, "they'll be in the same hall as you, but further towards the other end."

"Thank you," I told him. "Is the kitchen working on dinner? We'll need a lot."

"I warned them we have six more who eat as much as you all do. They still don't quite understand it, but at least they don't question it anymore."

"I'd be a mess without you, Varel," I told him honestly. "Thanks." Something occurred to me suddenly. "One more thing. Can you have one of the workmen make us a monument one of these days? Nothing fancy, just a short stone box we can take the top off of, maybe with the Warden motto on it? We'll need someplace to intern the ashes from now on." I should have thought of that sooner. With a start I realized I honestly had no idea what even happened to the bodies of the Orlesian Wardens and Mhairi, which made me feel fairly guilty.

"I'll have Voldrik sketch a few ideas up for you," he said.

"Perfect," I said. "Whatever the design on it is, I'll also need a plaque that's similar, to put in the Deep Roads on our side of the barrier. I figure, if we ever have dwarven recruits, they would want to be returned to the stone, not cremated."

"What about the Dalish?" Sigrun asked. "Don't they do burial?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "And they plant a tree on top. So maybe we can do that just outside the Keep's walls, and put a plaque on the wall there as well?" I shrugged. "Rather it be inside but no idea where, not much space free and trees get bigger with time. No rush to figure that out just yet, it'll be winter soon; I don't want to go hunting through the forest looking for them until spring." I had been thinking about this on our way back from Denerim. We had been living in the Keep for almost a year, but other than the _presence_ of Wardens it wasn't really a Warden compound. Everyone teased me about the griffins I was having included in the main hall, but that was why I wanted them. I needed a huge, visible sign that this was our home now, and we were here to stay. Plus, _griffins._

Honoring our fallen here seemed like another good way to make our occupancy seem more permanent. I also wanted to commission a statue of Loghain eventually, but that could wait for now. Since he was the only Ferelden Warden to ever slay an archdemon it seemed like a good way to encourage pride in our small branch of the order, and remind future recruits that we left our past behind no matter what it was. He didn't like being held up as a symbol any more than I did, but I don't think he would mind as much for something like that. It wasn't showing him as being above everyone like his Hero of River Dane status; it was showing him as an example of what any of us were capable of. And I couldn't pretend there wouldn't be a stone version of me joining it eventually, after my time was up and someone else was in charge. I wouldn't do it, though. I'd been dodging my official portrait for a year so far, a statue was well beyond my tolerance.

I sat on the floor, watching them struggle against the dreams. "I'm sending a letter to Orzammar tomorrow," I said, keeping my voice low. "I want to head there next, as soon as possible. More recruits, but I also need to see if the Architect's mess has spread that far in the Deep Roads. Even if it hasn't the king should be informed, in case there are more lurking who haven't surfaced yet. If they turn up there I want to know right away and reports of talking darkspawn might be dismissed as madness without us warning them first." Something else hit me at random. "I should see if there are maps of the deep roads, too. If we have that we can trace them up here and look for openings to be sealed." Glancing at the others I asked if anyone else wanted to join.

"Me," Anders said.

"I knew _that_ already. Don't worry, I know I promised you."

"I'd like to stay with the recruits for now," Nathaniel said. "Work on training. All the rogues should at least be passable with a bow _and_ blades. Once you get back I'll head to the Circle and see about more mages."

"Same here," Sigrun agreed. "And I don't really _want_ go to back there. Not yet, at least." She sighed. "You should make sure they know about the Legion, though." I nodded.

"I can deliver letters for you while I'm there," I said, before remembering Sigrun didn't learn to read until she was _in_ the Legion. Anyone she knew from before might not read, either. "Or pass on a message."

She shook her head. "I'm already dead, remember?" I didn't argue. If it was me, I wouldn't forget a friend just because they joined the Legion, and I'd be pleased to know if they still lived. But, I wasn't from Orzammar. Maybe they _really_ did somehow convince themselves that figurative death was the same as the real thing. She had been so hesitant about joining us, though, since it meant an eventual death but not an immediate one. I wondered if leaving the Legion for the Wardens would be seen as somehow shameful or a dereliction of duty, even if she would have lasted only a matter of days on her own.

"Did you want me to let them know you're with us now?" I asked. "Or should I just say the Legion was wiped out without going into details?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "No one's sentenced to join the Legion, you're only sentenced to the Deep Roads. What you do from there is your business, as long as you fight the darkspawn." She had never talked on this subject quite so much; usually questions that went beyond the abstract were deflected with humor. "Joining the Legion was my choice. I wanted to… I don't know. I wanted to prove I was more than they said I was. Joining the Wardens accomplishes the same thing." I squeezed her shoulder, she patted my hand in response. King Behlan may be a megalomaniac who killed one brother and framed the other for it, but at least he would do something to fix Orzammar's wretched caste system.

"Fine," Oghren spoke up after a moment when it was clear no one else was interested in the trip. I glanced at him. "What, you think we'll let you two off on your own? You'd be dead in a week, or get lost and wander off a cliff. Can either of you even tell which end is up on a map? I'm going, and you're taking at least one of the recruits, too." Anders hid a grin behind his hand and I blinked in shock. That was, well… that was actually _incredibly_ sound reasoning.

"Who are you?" Nathaniel demanded, turning on Oghren.

"What?" he said, belching. "I can't get ideas once in a while, too?"

"Okay, it's really you," Nathaniel agreed, waving a hand in front of his face to clear the air. "I'd say take two recruits, though. It's a long trip, and that way you don't have to all take a watch every night."

"Fair enough," I agreed. "Having you with us will help them, too. They're going to want advice on adapting to surface life from someone who understands."

"How much longer should it be?" Sigrun asked me.

"Any time now," I said. "And then we get to the hard part."

* * *

Rose let out a small groan. I sat on my heels next to her. Her eyelids fluttered. "Andraste's flaming sword, what _was_ that?" she muttered, opening her eyes.

"Welcome, sister," I said, straightening up my feet so I could offer her a hand up. "The nightmares are normal, I'm sorry we couldn't warn you before."

She shook he head, still disoriented. "So," she said after glancing around, "Vivian…?"

"I'm sorry," was all I could say.

She sighed sadly. "Well, she knew it could happen. We both did."

Roland was next. Nathaniel and Anders each took one of his hands, helping him up. "That was some dream," he muttered after we welcomed him. "Hey," he added, glancing around, "where is everyone," adding "oh" a moment later as he realized what happened; he was one of the first and hadn't seen anyone fall. He looked around once more, checking every face.

"Thomas, then?" he asked. I nodded and apologized; he shook his head and went to join Rose by the wall.

"Brendan and Vivian?" Tobias asked after looking around.

"They didn't make it," I told him. "I'm sorry." He punched the floor, but said nothing.

Aidan was the next to wake. "Is the Harrowing as bad as that?" he asked us, looking pale.

"Not even close," Anders replied, "there you only have to fight one demon and outwit another. It was pretty easy, actually."

"Mine was basically the same," I agreed, not really caring if I was blabbing Circle secrets.

Cormac was next, uttering "I can't believe I made it" as his eyes opened. He looked over at everyone sitting by the wall. "Hey, we did it, we're actua-" his face fell. Turning back to me he said only "Joanna?"

"I'm sorry," I told him.

He choked, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I knew it could happen, even before we decided to try, but…" Shaking his head, Cormac looked at me sadly. "She was my sister. Twin, not the identical kind. Well, obviously."

_Maker's breath._ I had no idea. "I'm so sorry," I told him again, "I didn't realize."

He nodded in thanks. "We didn't want you to know, we each wanted to be taken on our own merits, not as a team." He shrugged at that, offering a small heartbreaking smile. "I'll wait a while to write and tell our parents. They were so proud, I'd rather they think she died a Warden, fighting darkspawn, being a hero, all that. They don't need to know she didn't make it."

"She did die a Warden," I told him, although I doubted it was much comfort. He thanked me and joined the others by the wall.

Arthur woke last. "Horrible dream," he muttered. "Let me guess, something I drank?" I was amazed when he actually gave me a grin after that. I agreed at the cause. His smile fell once he looked around and saw Thomas gone.

I passed out the amulets. "We wear these in memory of those who didn't make it this far, and of the Wardens who came before us. There will also be a funeral tomorrow. You don't have to speak at it, but if you'd like to say a few words about anyone you can." I waited for them to slip the amulets on. "I know you're all upset right now, Seneschal Varel will show you up to your rooms so you can rest and collect yourselves. Bring your stuff, feel free to unpack and get comfortable. This is your home now. When you're ready come find us, we'll be in my office. I'll fill you in on the rest then."

"There's more bad news?" Rose asked.

"Unfortunately," I answered.

"But, the Joining- that was it, right?" Arthur asked. "We're Wardens now, the rest is just telling us all the secrets?"

"That was it," Nathaniel said. "You're one of us now."

* * *

Things were not going well. To say the very least. Rose had tears pouring down her face ever since she found out that it would be unlikely she would ever have children. Cormac was staring forward mutely, opening his mouth as though to speak on occasion, but closing it before words came out. Arthur kept pacing the room, unable to find a chair that wasn't near at least one mage, Aidan was mostly ignoring me in favor of trying to paw through my books despite Anders repeatedly waving him away and telling him to pay attention, and Tobias, well, he wasn't happy to find out about the Calling.

"You shouldn't keep that from people," Tobias shouted, jumping to his feet. Anders tensed, watching him try to loom over me. Oghren took a step closer and I held my hand up, gesturing for him to wait. He had every right to yell, and as long as yelling was all he did I could suffer through it. Rose lost her battle against sound and began to sob into Cormac's shoulder. He reached up to halfheartedly pat her on the back but missed, hitting her in the head instead. My stomach clenched with the sound, guilt ripping through me. I took a breath, hoping I could make it through this, and feeling like the worst person alive the entire time.

"Spare me," Aidan snapped at Tobias, finally paying attention now that the discussion had become more interesting to him. "They tell people and no one would join, the order dies out, and what, next time a blight rolls around we just cross our fingers and _hope_ someone figures it all out again before the world ends?" My informal belief that mages had the easiest adjustment to being Wardens since we had the least to lose was confirmed again.

"Of _course_ you would defend it," Tobias countered. "Mages agreeing with mages, what a shock there."

"What does it have to do with being a mage?" Aidan protested. "You think she cooked this up on her own just to mess with you? I just understand stopping the darkspawn is more important than one life. I saw the damned archdemon, and if they tell me jumping off the roof will mean an end to the blights forever I'll head up there _right now._"

"Oh, _riiight, _here we go!" Tobias said, throwing his arms in the air as he turned on Aidan. "Ser I fought at the Battle of Denerim so you could never fully understand being a Warden like I do darkspawn expert. We didn't listen to enough of that on the way here?"

Aidan was back on his feet now, too. They were poking each other in the chest as they shouted. "You know what, screw you. What did you think; being a Warden would just be something to help you get girls?"

"Unlike some people _I_ don't need the help."

"As if you'd even know what to do with one."

"And you would? You can't even be twenty years yet!"

"Maybe not," Aidan agreed, "but I _already _know more than you'll _ever _learn!"

"Too bad you never learned how to dress," Tobias replied. "It's a real shame you're not a maleficar, then you could just enchant women into ignoring that ridiculous skirt you're wearing."

"Hey!" interjected Anders. They both ignored him. I wrung my hands, not sure what to do but sure I should do _something_. I tried clearing my throat, they ignored me. Tapping an inkwell against the desk made as much of an impact. Saying "excuse me" and "hey" repeatedly didn't seem to help, either. Nor did the fact that I was, secretly, finding this a bit funny. So long as it didn't come to blows I'd take a screaming match over each other's sexual prowess and fashion sense over them yelling at me or crying.

"Aw, someone jealous since they have to _use_ weapons while I _am_ a weapon?"

"Good thing for you, too. I doubt you'd be able to lift a single arrow without breaking a sweat, much less a whole bow!"

And they went on and on. Funny thing was, neither one mentioned the words 'darkspawn,' 'blight,' 'archdemon,' or even 'death,' again. Even Rose had stopped crying to watch their exchange, everyone tensed waiting for them to attack each other.

I met Oghren's eyes helplessly. He nodded and jumped onto the low table by the fireplace. "ENOUGH!" That roar managed to silence everyone.

"Thank you, Oghren," I said. "Now, if you two can save that for later? Perhaps work it out in the training yard?" They had the decency to look sheepish as they sat down. "But, since you both seem so interested in sexual prowess, I can just move right on to our next topic." I hoped the bizarre humor of that might break the tension a little, before someone drew a weapon. I was still firmly convinced off-color humor was of almost universal appeal, despite what Alistair told me.

"Wait, _what?"_ Tobias said, choking slightly.

"You heard me. That's it for bad news. Time for all the side effects that _won't_ ruin your day. I like to end on an up note. Those rumors about Grey Warden stamina? All true."

"It is?" Arthur asked, a smile forming as he ceased his pacing to look at Oghren, Nathaniel and Anders for confirmation.

"_Very_ much so," Anders spoke up, grinning. Oghren snorted with laughter.

"Wow, yeah, since being able to go one more time a night totally balances out early death," Tobias said, rolling his eyes.

"_Once_ more? That's _nothing," _Anders said, ignoring me gesturing at him to shut up."Try three or four. This one time-"

"Anders!" I snapped. He grinned.

"Well, you get the point," he said with a shrug. "Come on, you never try to look on the bright side of things? Sure, it doesn't balance out dying young, but it's still better than the early death by itself."

"Wow, thank you Anders," I said dryly, rolling my eyes.

"For you? Anything!" he grinned.

"Moving on," I said with a shake of my head, "we can sense darkspawn, as you know. You won't be able to for a couple months, but it will happen eventually, and it gets better as time goes on. You might even be able to sense the taint within Wardens eventually. I can but that's _very_ recent for me, and I've been a Warden for over four years now. It doesn't happen to everyone. You'll have more energy and stamina, as we covered. But that also gives you the added benefits of not needing as much rest or sleep, and not getting worn out in battle as quickly."

I looked at the others. "Did I miss anything?"

"Hunger?" Sigrun answered.

"Actually, now that you say it, I _am_ kind of hungry," Roland said. "Really hungry, in fact."

"I feel like I could eat this table itself," Aidan admitted. "And it's got footprints on it now."

"I don't know how, after drinking that awful stuff, but I know what you mean," Arthur agreed.

There were murmurs and nods around the table. I actually smiled at that. "Um, no… Sigrun wasn't _asking_ if you were hungry. That's another side effect. Not sure how I forgot it, since I'm _starved_ right now. We could have guessed you'd be hungry, Wardens always are. You're going to eat _a lot_ from now on."

"And here I thought you were all just pigs," Roland said, snorting.

"No, they still are," Oghren said. "Sad day when I've got the best table manners in the bunch."

"Oh, you do not," I said. "You wipe your mouth with your _beard_!"

"That's what it's there for!" I shook my head.

"None of us would have kept any of this from you if we had a choice," Nathaniel spoke up. "Well, except for Anders' contribution. I could have lived without knowing that." Anders leaned over, whispering something to Nathaniel. I could see the devious expression on his face even behind his cupped hand. Nathaniel's jaw fell and he blushed furiously. _Do I even **want** to know what he just said?_ I wondered, before deciding to ignore it for now.

"While I'm not thrilled to know I have such a definite date of expiration," Roland said, "I have to admit… I _can't stand_ children. I guess they balance out for me. I mean, it wasn't as though I was working as a merchant or anything before I got here."

"Personally, if it keeps me from the Circle, I'd take just five years even if I was bleeding from the eyes the whole time," Aidan said with a grin. "Thirty years, no bloody eyes, and I can screw for hours? I feel like it's my birthday. You know, if I had one."

"Just make one up, that's what I did," I suggested.

"Oh good," Oghren interjected. "Another bitter mage. I've been saying we need more of those around here. You know, to keep the mood light."

"I don't know, I think the complaints will have a much richer sound now that they can be done in a three part harmony," Nathaniel added. "Perhaps we can set it to music?"

"Very clever," I said, rolling my eyes. Since no one seemed to have any more questions everyone headed to the dining hall. I promised to meet them down there in a moment. I wanted some time to calm my mind, perhaps by slamming my head into a wall repeatedly. Once the group had stomped out Oghren returned, wagging a finger at me.

"That could have gone better," I admitted.

"Can't let them just carry on like that, Mags," Oghren said, sitting down. "Undermines your authority."

"No, I guess not. I hoped they'd stop on their own."

"At that age? We're lucky they didn't start throwing punches. Or whatever weird thing you mages do instead of that. Eh, at least it distracted everyone else for a bit." He stretched out, stroking his beard in thought for a moment. "I'll take them out to the yard after dinner; they can work it out there. Call it unarmed combat training."

"You think that's necessary?"

He snorted. "You've never been in the army. They gotta get it out, or it'll fester and blow up at the wrong time. Sooner the better."

"If you say so," I agreed. He had a lot more experience dealing with temperamental young men than I did, from Orzammar's army and then Ferelden's. Seemed a bit barbaric to me, but Orzammar had been turning out the finest warriors in Thedas for generations; if that was what they did I wouldn't argue.

"You know I've got your back," Oghren reminded me.

"Hey, I know. That's the only reason I've made it this far without dying."

He laughed at that. "Chin up. Could have gone worse, too. I bet there've been commanders who get a weapon drawn on them at these sessions." Oghren made a good point. I nodded in agreement and we stood to join everyone for dinner.

"Hey, I hear from Anders you're switching to armor?"

"Yeah," I agreed, sounding not entirely happy, and feeling even less thrilled than that. "He'll never let it go if I don't."

"Well he _shouldn't_," Oghren said. "Fighting like you do you should wear armor. He damn well better stay on your case about it." Oghren laughed. "The only reason I haven't crushed his skull yet is since he manages to keep you alive and cheerful." I just shook my head. Their game of mutual pretend hatred was so obviously for show as to be comical. The two of them spent ages cooking up new insults for each other, which they often shared over drinks, laughing the entire time. "So, four times a night, eh? No wonder you're always smiling at breakfast."

I laughed at that. "When Nathaniel goes to the Circle you should tag along and visit Felsi," I suggested with a grin. "See for yourself."

"Heh, I just might at that. Gotta check in on the kid, too. Can't let little Maggie forget who her dad is." I still couldn't believe he'd named his daughter after me. I had been honored, but Alistair reacted by saying 'oh no, now there'll be two of them!' Oghren had been pushing his wife to move to Amaranthine, but so far she was resistant to the idea. She liked living on Lake Calanhad, and had a good job there. I think she didn't relish the idea of raising their daughter around a bunch of Grey Wardens, either. Not that it would matter where she raised her, any child of Oghren's would be better with a battleaxe by ten than most men were by thirty.

* * *

Dinner was more chaotic than usual because of the influx of new faces. By the end of the meal most of the newcomers seemed to have calmed down, or come to grips with the situation. I kept a close watch for any more fighting, but Tobias and Aidan contented themselves with sending each other dirty looks across the table. Maybe Oghren had been right and they would need to just knock each other around.

"So _what_ did you say to Nathaniel that made him blush?" I asked Anders as we got ready for bed once the meal had broken up and I penned my letter to King Behlan. On impulse I sent another to Jowan, under his new name, wondering if his 'cousin' and some of her friends could visit for a day when they were in the area. It was on the way after all.

"What? Oh, that? I believe my exact words were 'if you're jealous I'm sure Sigrun would love to take advantage of your stamina.'" No wonder he turned so red. I'd heard noblewomen told their daughters to 'lie back and think of Ferelden' as advice for their wedding nights. I didn't know if it was true, but the general attitude seemed pretty accurate when it came to discussing sex around most of the nobility.

I laughed in response as I climbed under the blankets.

Later that night, as sweat cooled on our skin and we curled together in silence I couldn't stop my thoughts from turning back to earlier that day.

"Am I a monster?" I asked.

"Maker, yes," he muttered, nibbling my neck.

"That's _not_ what I mean," I protested. Anders sighed.

"I know, I'm just trying to cheer you up." He rolled onto his back with a soft groan. "If you are I suppose I am, too. It's not like we have any options, though. Duty, all that."

"Never thought I'd hear _you_ talk about duty," I said, rolling to my opposite side to face him.

"Me neither. I blame you, personally. Maybe responsibility is one of those social diseases, like Orlesian Pox the Pirate's Itch. Ugh, I once had to heal a templar who got that one from Andraste only knows where. Disgusting. But, I did get to tell him it was the Maker's punishment for breaking his vows the whole time, and make hints about amputation, so that was fun." He was, very obviously, trying to make me laugh. A moment later I saw him glance at me from the corner of his eye to see if it was working. "Fine," Anders said, sitting up. "I don't know if we're monsters. It isn't just you after all, it's all of us. I've been trying to decide that very thing myself, and having no luck." He was silent for a moment, thinking. "Doing nothing, that seems worse. If we are monsters, well, we're monsters working for a good cause."

"I know," I said. "You're right. I just feel awful telling people I've basically sentenced them to death. As bad as I feel now there's this part of me that simply doesn't care, though. The part that sees duty and responsibility, it says to keep throwing bodies on the fire as long as I get what I need out of it. That's what scares me."

"Worry about being a monster when that part stops scaring you."

* * *

_A/N: Wow, writing is SO EASY when there are a million other things you should be doing instead. This chapter brought to you by procrastination. As always, thanks so much for the adds, favorites, and reviews!_


	13. Barbaric oafs from the hinterlands

The priest, thankfully Moira and not that wretched old Revered Mother, arrived not long before lunch. Unfortunately she had two templars in tow. I carefully hid my annoyance at that, figuring it was a formality. "Commander," she greeted me warmly, "I'm sorry for your losses."

"Sister Moira, I'm glad you could come," I told her.

"Actually, it became Mother Moira just after the attack on the city. And, well, as of a few days ago it's Revered Mother Moira." She leaned in to whisper "hence the guards. Sorry, I have to drag them everywhere."

I gasped in surprise. "Well, congratulations, then!" Confusion hit me. "Did the last Revered Mother…" _die of old age and meanness? Get eaten by a bear? Run off and jump in a lake? _The bear was my personal favorite pick. Oh, I would so end up wandering the Beyond for eternity.

"She's on her way to Denerim, to be sworn in as Grand Cleric." I couldn't have thought of something worse if I tried. Maybe I _was_ cursed by the Maker. I struggled not to make a face. "That's why I just got bumped up the line so quickly. There aren't enough priests to go around since the blight, otherwise they would have sent someone older."

"Did you hear about what happened to us in Denerim?"

"I did. I was sorry to hear about your troubles, but couldn't help wondering _who_ actually thought they could take on yourself and Warden Anders at once?"

"A templar," I whispered.

She gasped. "That part wasn't in the version I heard," the priest quickly replied in a whisper. Her guards were edging closer, trying to hear our hushed conversation. I darted my eyes to them and she raised a hand, sending them two feet back. They grumbled but complied.

"He may not have taken the _vows_, he wasn't in uniform, but he had the training of one." I explained quickly what we had learned from Knight-Commander Tavish.

She shook her head. "Don't people realize your job is bad enough already? Well, it's not an official Chantry edict, I'll tell you that."

"That's a relief to find out," I admitted. "If you hear of anything else, I know the late Grand Cleric and her new replacement were friends and both…" I shrugged.

"Loathed you? Yes, they didn't make much secret of that. If I hear anything I will find a way to let you know. I may have to send a templar with the message, though, so don't assume an attack if one shows up on your doorstep."

"I appreciate that." I glanced down the courtyard at the pyre.

"How do we handle the, um, fire?" I asked her. She gave me a curious look, not understanding. "I've only ever been to mage funerals. We just, well, set it ourselves." Once I held up my hands she nodded, understanding.

"I've never seen that done, to be honest. I don't see why it wouldn't be allowed, though, so long as you can keep the flame going throughout the service." Unless she planned to speak for six or seven hours it wouldn't be a problem. "Normally people just use torches." Oh, that would make sense. I should have guessed as much.

Calling everyone together we gathered around the wooden structure. Even Sigrun and Oghren were with us, standing politely in their new armor. I told them they could skip it, if they wanted, not being Andrastians. Both agreed they would come to show support for the new Wardens.

Having to stand still, throughout the entire service, with a small flame hovering over my palms was proving to be more exhausting than I anticipated. I had to fight myself the entire time, the flame wanted to either go into a full blown fire or disappear completely. I focused on letting the fireball slowly rotate over my outstretched palms, just to take my mind off the task. Judging by how Anders was shifting on his feet I wasn't alone in that assessment. Mage funerals were also a lot shorter, a few words from the priest, a few words from the First Enchanter, some fire, and we all went back inside before anyone tried to make a break for it and swim for shore. That usually happened anyways, though. I'd never tried- I didn't know how to swim.

The actual service part seemed far longer today. I wondered if we got an abridged 'you're damned anyways so why bother' version at the Circle. After that everyone wanted to say something, which I couldn't fault them for. Once they all spoke Revered Mother Moira started to read from the chant. Anders inclined his head to me so I would know the end was near. At last I heard the signal. "_For You are the fire at the heart of the world and comfort is only Yours to give."_ Everyone stepped back as Anders and I took our places at either side of the pyre. Glad I still had energy left I unleashed an inferno. The templars jumped before trying to regain their composure, one of them muttering something under his breath. They were lucky I was worn down, I could have covered the entire courtyard at once if I'd been at peak condition.

Finished, I shook my hands off, more out of old habit than any actual need, and we joined the rest of the group watching smoke spiral into the clouds. I never found much comfort with rituals like this. That was for the best, I suppose, as I wouldn't get one of my own. No one would be retrieving my corpse from the Deep Roads or anything like that for a funeral, after all. It felt like we had stood there in silence for hours, but I knew the time wasn't anywhere near there. Eventually, after the priest stepped away, the group began to drift back inside. If people wanted they could stay and watch, and I'd heard of those who waited for the entire thing to reduce itself to ash. However, most only stood at the beginning, returning to collect ashes later.

Part of me thought I should stay out of respect, but I could also see the new Wardens wanting a chance to mourn their friends without the woman who all but killed them standing around. That seemed a better plan of action, so I stepped away as soon as it was polite. The Revered Mother politely refused my invitation to stay for lunch. After vague small talk about the status of the Chantry since the attack and her inquiries on our travel plans for the future she left. I breathed a sigh of relief as they rode off, glad the templars were gone. Aidan and Anders both drifted over to me after a moment.

"You know what I liked about those templars?" Anders asked.

"That they left?" Aidan replied.

"Exactly."

"Conversations like this are _exactly_ why Oghren and Nathaniel make fun of us," I pointed out. Anders shrugged, clearly unconcerned, and took my hand.

"Orzammar?" he said, grinning.

"Sent a letter to the king this morning," I told him. "We may stop in Highever on the way, too. Just for a day or so."

"Visiting Jowan?" he asked.

"They had the baby," I said. "Figured I should go and see. He won't even tell me if it's a boy or a girl, his letters just say 'come visit and see for yourself already, what kind of friend are you? You can't possibly be saving the world _every_ day.'"

"Why wouldn't he tell you?" Anders asked.

"Because he knows keeping anything from me is a good way to drive me nuts and get me there sooner. We'll go into the city at some point before then; I think I'm supposed to bring a gift. That's what you do, right? For babies?"

"As if I know," Anders laughed.

"That's what people did in the alienage," Aidan finally spoke up. "They'd bring a toy, like a stuffed doll. Or something useful."

"Useful?" I asked.

"Diapers, clothes, blankets. Stuff like that." Ah, that made far more sense than what I was thinking. I thought it was something useful to the parent, and wondered how giving Jowan a new staff or the like would signify happiness at his child's healthy birth. Not that he ever wore a staff anymore, what with being a farmer these days. I hadn't the faintest idea what a farmer would find useful. Animals, perhaps? I certainly wouldn't be dragging a cow from Amaranthine to Highever, that's for sure. Particularly not with Oghren in tow, we'd wake up to see him cooking a steak.

"I'll stick with a stuffed doll. I heard one of the shops in Amaranthine has stuffed griffins now. Maybe I should get two; the king of Orzammar has a little boy. Duncan once told me nobles like it when people bring gifts." I had also planned on bringing a few casks of my favorite Amaranthine ale, since it was well known how the dwarves appreciated ales and meads from the surface.

"That's a good plan," Anders said. "I'm terrified to think of what you might decide qualified as useful otherwise. We'd end up dragging livestock or something." I had to admit, he knew me well. Anders sighed suddenly. "You're going to buy one of those stuffed dolls for yourself, aren't you?" Perhaps _too _well, since that idea had crossed my mind. I couldn't say that _now_ though.

"Isn't that your job," I said instead. "Flowers, stuffed dolls, jewelry, things like that? I've read those romance books" I teased. "I should be getting lots of presents."

"Hey, I gave you a necklace," Anders protested. "I've done enough to further your unhealthy griffin fixation. And if I gave you flowers you'd just chop them up to make some kind of salve."

"I couldn't help but notice from your conversation that Jowan is alive," Aidan mentioned casually.

"Let's keep that between us, hm? I've gone through a lot of effort to keep him that way."

"Wasn't he a blood mage?"

"So?" I said, by way of testing the waters. "That doesn't automatically mean he's evil." Anders chuckled beside me and I elbowed him.

"I'm missing something here, aren't I?" Aidan asked after glancing at both of us, Anders fighting his giggles and me glaring up at him. "All right, which one of you got out and went maleficar."

"Everyone will find out eventually," Anders said to me.

"I was hoping to hold off until Arthur stopped being so nervous around us," I said.

Aidan's eyes went wide. "Oh come on, tell me, please! I won't tell, I swear. It's you, isn't it? It's always the primal mages, right? Right?" He was all but hopping up and down.

"Well it's not _me,_" Anders scoffed.

"Thanks, Anders. Remind me why I'm with you again?"

"Because you adore me," he said, grinning.

"So, can you really control minds?"

"No more than you can," I said. "I never learned the spells. No need."

"I didn't know there was anything else you could really _do _with blood magic," Aidan said, sounding confused. The Circle used to actually tell you what it was; I suspect after my little adventure they stopped doing that.

"Same thing as any other magic," I said. "Just another source of power. I only use my own blood, though, so it's mostly a last-shot effort when things get tough and I'm out of energy. Oh, and I can boil darkspawn alive from the inside out. That's been handy more than once."

"And they look like they're dancing, right before they fall down," Anders added. "That's always fun."

I shook my head and went back into the Keep for lunch, calling "not a _word"_ over my shoulder.

"Tobias," I called across the table. "What did you _do_ to yourself?" He had a shiny new black eye today.

"Unarmed combat training," came the reply, earning a laugh from Oghren. "Aidan packs a decent punch for such a skinny guy."

Aidan laughed in response to that. "You're not so bad, either. I looked even worse before I healed myself. You should have let me fix that, though." Well, I suppose Oghren's plan had worked. They seemed to actually be friendly now.

Anders walked over and examined Tobias briefly before healing it. "Aw," he protested. "I kind of liked it, it made me look tough."

"You're a Grey Warden. What more could you need to look tough?" I asked, laughing.

He brightened at that, running his hands across his new leather armor. Composed of intricately studded and woven strips of reinforced leather, the griffin emblem was stamped on it in a repeating pattern. "So I am! It just doesn't seem quite real yet."

"You know?" Aidan agreed, twirling a staff from the Orlesian supply. It, too, had griffins carved into the wood. "I kept expecting those templars that came with the priest to drag me off, kicking and screaming."

Arthur turned to him. "Is the Circle of Magi really _that_ bad?" He gave questioning looks at Nathaniel, Oghren, and Sigrun who were gesturing wildly for him to be quiet.

"I will admit," I began, "it is very _luxurious_ for a prison." The three senior Wardens sank into their chairs with groans. "But it is still a _prison._ I didn't even know what grass felt like under my feet until I was a Warden."

"Every move is watched," Aidan supplied. "They spend all day telling us how horrible we are, and how the moment we screw up a templar will be happy to chop off our heads. And the templars act like they'd be happy to do that even if you don't screw up."

"Sod off," Oghren grunted. "I've heard the stories, you mages and your… robes."

Aidan turned to Anders. "You told him?"

"I got sick of hearing about how I was wearing a dress." Of course, that led to everyone _else_ asking about the robes, a story Anders was happily able to offer. Perhaps wearing armor from now on wouldn't be so bad. I did have to laugh seeing everyone's reactions.

"Forget being a warrior," Roland snorted. "I want to be a _mage_."

Once everyone had stopped laughing I spoke up again. "I'm going to have to head into the city soon. Now that we're not under threat _every_ day I can't put off that damned portrait any longer, and there are a handful of errands I need to take care of now that things are basically up and running again."

"How is the damage to the city?" Cormac asked. He had come in from the pyre last, with Rose in tow. It seemed she was his new adoptive sister, and since her spirits were greatly improved from yesterday I guess the arrangement worked for both of them. Granted, that put them both somewhere near clearly miserable, but from near-catatonic and sobbing uncontrollably it was an improvement.

"Not bad," I admitted. "They say it'll be less than a year before any trace of what happened is gone."

"Is there an alienage?" Rose asked.

I shook my head. "No, but Amaranthine is a very small city, barely more than a big town, and our laws are different here. Elves can live anywhere and carry all the weapons they want, I wouldn't stand for it otherwise. Some districts seem to be more popular for elves, but there is no official alienage to speak of." No one seemed to have a reply for that, and I couldn't tell anyone's reactions. "Anyways, if anyone wants to come, the trip will be a week, maybe a bit longer."

I would also be arranging for a few stablehands, at least one of whom could teach riding, and purchasing several more horses while in the city, but the trip there would be on foot. I'd discussed it with Varel, we both agreed it would be a good use of some of the King's money. He had put men on building up a stable immediately, in fact. Having to travel on foot every time simply wasn't practical for the only Wardens in Ferelden. If we had to see about reports of darkspawn in the Southern reaches of the Bannorn or the Frostback Mountains or somewhere equally remote taking weeks to travel could put lives at risk, or leave us finding nothing but a long-cold trail. We had four now, I wanted at least ten, eventually more. If more than one group of Wardens could be out on the road at a time, ready to go where needed, I'd be happy. My argument that it would save us money on boots had to be dropped, though, apparently I'd said it enough someone did the math and showed how much keeping up with horses cost.

The morning we were planning to leave a large wagon rolled into the courtyard. Gathered by the Keep walls, packs already shouldered, we stopped to watch. A man of about forty years, in Warden armor with a thick salt and pepper beard, hopped down and approached us. "Commander?" he said to me, voice heavily accented.

"That would be me," I said, reaching my hand out in greeting. We clasped each other's wrists briefly. "What brings you to Ferelden, brother?"

"I am Johann, from Weisshaupt. I have been tasked with making sure this shipment reached you safely," he said. "And this, as well," he added, passing a large box from the seat of the wagon. Nathaniel accepted the box, holding it up while I opened it. When we looked inside he almost dropped it in the dirt. "You can see why a personal escort was in order."

"I can," I gasped. It had row after row of large, unfamiliar coins. I could see the number ten imprinted on each. If that meant what I suspected, this could be more than the whole of the Ferelden's treasury held. It wasn't a small fortune, or even just a fortune. This was a very, very _large_ fortune. After staring blankly at the coins for far too long, unable to form words, I managed to ask Nathaniel to deliver the money to Varel. I turned back to the new Warden. "Please, come inside," I insisted. "You must be exhausted after traveling so far."

He agreed readily and followed us in. "I have… interrupted?" Johann offered, seeing us set our packs down in the main hall as we entered. Everyone scattered, leaving Anders and I standing with our guest.

"Just a simple trip into town," I assured him, "nothing urgent." He was the first visitor we'd had since I'd taken command and the first Warden from our headquarters I'd ever met. I was desperate not to come across as barbaric oafs from the hinterlands.

He looked around, taking in the damage. While the main hall was clean, it was obviously in bad shape. Scorch marks scarred the stone, and holes marked where plaster supports had once been attached. The woodwork that remained was charred beyond repair. Unfinished beams kept the ceiling secure, and the main stairs were barely more than planks.

"I'm afraid we still haven't been able to fix everything," I offered by way of apology.

He laughed. "That is why the First Warden sent money. We understand, Ferelden is not a wealthy nation, and your order here is small. Your apology is not needed." Most of the recruits had gathered on the stairs, eager to see our visitor. "Larger than we thought, though," he added, glancing at the six new faces. I guess someone _had_ been reading all those reports I sent off.

"Our newest Wardens," I offered. "You must have crossed paths with the notification I sent." Nathaniel returned to join us.

"Varel is having food sent to your office," Nathaniel informed me. Food! I should have thought of that. So much for not looking like a pack of oafs. After thanking him I led the three of us upstairs. Nathaniel tried to build a fire but stopped after laying the wood, looking around for a tinderbox. Anders tapped his arm and lit the fire himself with a quick spell. "Should have guessed," Nathaniel said with a smile as he sat down.

"Will you be staying with us?" I asked, not sure if he had been reassigned, or sent to assist us temporarily.

"Oh no," he said. "I am needed at home, my ship leaves in the morning." I nodded, surprised. While I wasn't really expecting them to reassign people here, traveling so far only to turn right back around seemed agonizing. "I was sent to deliver items and speak with you." Speak with me? Well that could be interesting. Or horrible, depending on what he had to say.

We waited, making small talk, asking his opinion on Ferelden, until the food arrived. He blushed when I admitted he was the first foreigner who didn't comment on the smell of wet dogs, which confirmed that he had just been too polite to mention it. Personally, I stopped noticing the smell once I'd been out of the tower a couple months, but I suppose that just meant I was used to it. Nathaniel followed the maid to the door, closing and locking it behind her.

"Commander," he began, "you trust these men? Completely?"

"With my life," I answered quickly. "And please, call me Maggie. We're far too small for formalities here."

"Very well, Maggie. The First Warden, he is very impressed with you so far." I couldn't help but grin in response to that. "The archdemon, of course, but your more recent troubles as well."

"Thank you," I said, "but it's never been just me."

Johann nodded, "Indeed. You continue to surround yourself with the best, it seems. Recruitment is going well?"

"So far," I said. "We haven't been able to do as much as I'd hoped yet, but we leave in a month for Orzammar, with stops in Highever, West Hill, and Kinloch Hold on the way." He nodded, although I suspected the names, other than the famed dwarven city, meant nothing to him.

"We must know one thing," he said suddenly, looking serious. I nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "_Did_ you kill the Grand Cleric of Ferelden?"

"Maker's breath, no," I said quickly. "Absolutely not. In fact, Anders and I were attacked the very same night." I quickly explained what happened in Denerim, since he didn't know more than the public version of the story, which led to me explaining how the arcane warrior spells worked since he was shocked a mage could wield a blade at all.

He relaxed at that, leaning back with a mug of ale. "That is a relief," Johann admitted with a smile. "We have many reports about you, and it seemed an out of character action, very blatant, but it was necessary to confirm personally." While I could understand that, I wondered why they didn't send a letter. I suppose sending someone trusted with the money was just good timing. "Wardens publicly against the Chantry, it would be very bad for us."

"Well, I may not be able to help that," I admitted, "the new Grand Cleric is no fonder of me than the last one."

"You misunderstand," he said, suddenly. "If they give you trouble, if they step between you and duty, the First Warden _expects_ the problem to be dealt with. He simply wants to ensure you wouldn't be so clumsy as to use magic, which would draw suspicion to you." He set his mug down, taking a few bites of a sandwich. How someone could council me to kill clergywomen at will while calmly eating I couldn't quite fathom. I guess that explains why no one sent a letter, though. I could just imagine if that one had been intercepted. "Duty must always come first. Remember that. You are more important than they are, _your work_ is more important. If they keep you from your job, if they try to harm the Wardens, the problem _must_ be taken care of." I nodded dumbly, too shocked to reply. And to think, I'd always heard people from the Anderfels were devoutly religious. "The First Enchanter merely wants to ensure any further actions, or first actions as the case seems to be, wouldn't be something so easily attributed to you."

"You're saying if I have to kill the Grand Cleric to make it look like an _accident_?" I asked incredulously.

"Exactly!" he beamed, not realizing I was confirming I hadn't gone mad in the last half hour and misunderstood him horribly, not attempting to summarize my orders. "Of course, we all hope it will not come to that. But, should it…" The words hung in the air. Anders, Nathaniel and I shared a glance. Apparently realizing how uncomfortable the three of us were Johann patted me on the shoulder. "Come now," he said. "She is acting outside her station. Her Holiness the Divine would never speak against us, she knows our importance. If a woman who has seen blight firsthand isn't so smart, well, it would perhaps be a favor to all." He grinned at that and, against my better judgment; I couldn't help but return a shadow of the expression. Johann did have a valid point, after all. Not that I would follow his advice, but I could see the strange humor in someone who lived through a blight speaking against the only people who could stop another one.

"Besides," he added, "people of Ferelden, they love the Wardens, more than anywhere else perhaps. Someone speaking against you hurts them more than it hurts the order here. Even in the Anderfels we are seen as grim, obsessed with duty, fanatical. Most shy away from us, they know our necessity but we still scare them. Here, you are cheered in the streets, called heroes." He shook his head, smiling. "Gossiped about like popular nobles, even." I couldn't help but groan at that. "It is quite strange," he mused. "When I arrived, people ran to me on the docks when they saw my armor. 'Are you a Warden,' they asked, 'do you know them, what are they like.' I've never had that happen before. Most see the griffin, they run the opposite way. They think I'll conscript them and drag them off to a messy death." I couldn't help but smile at that. Duncan had told me to expect a similar reaction at one point, when a man in a tavern took one look at him and bolted.

"Ferelden used to be an embarrassing topic for us," he admitted, no doubt referring back to the order's two century expulsion. "Now, it is a good country for the Wardens. We have all of you, we even have the very king!" I didn't want to point out that Alistair had very loudly and publicly renounced his association with the Wardens at the Landsmeet several years ago. He was our greatest supporter now, of course, but only so long as our interests and Ferelden's as a whole were aligned. "We want to ensure it remains that way." I nodded, my letter from the First Warden when I took charge had said as much.

Changing the topic, he asked me more about the arcane warrior skills, saying that Weisshaupt may want to send mages from other locations here to learn them and spread the training throughout the order. "Mages with swords," he said, chuckling. "What darkspawn could stand against that?"

"None I've encountered so far," I admitted.

After being asked to recount both the stories of the blight as well as our adventures since arriving in Amaranthine, and he answered our questions about Weisshaupt and the rest of the order, Johann stood to take his leave. I offered to put him up for the night once more, but he politely refused.

"Are you leaving by way of the city," I asked suddenly. He nodded in agreement and I couldn't help but grin. "Well, at the risk of imposing, since your wagon is now empty could we trouble you for carrying some of us along? We had been planning on walking."

"Of course," he said. "You don't have horses?" He was obviously surprised.

"They're rare in Ferelden," I admitted. "We do have a few, but I was actually going to purchase more in town, and arrange for stablehands and a riding instructor." _And dogs_, I thought to myself. He didn't necessarily need to know my first big plan for our newfound Warden wealth would be to buy a few breeding pairs of Mabari, though. People mocked Ferelden enough as it was.

Unfortunately Nathaniel didn't seem to be on the same page. "You know, we could finally set up a decent kennel now," he said, grinning. "There was one here before, and it's undamaged. All we'd need to get would be the mabari and a houndmaster."

Anders' eyes lit up. "Hey, proper wardogs! That will get people to take us seriously. I've read about the Ash Warriors, we could paint our dogs like they do."

Faced with their enthusiasm I couldn't hide my own excitement at the idea any longer. "I really do miss Dane," I said, thinking back to my mabari who died fighting the archdemon. "Having a mabari around again would be nice."

"It seems the stories of Ferelden and her beloved dogs are true," Johann muttered with amusement.

"Your mabari was named _Dane_?" Nathaniel said, shaking his head. "_Everyone_ names their mabari Dane."

"Could be worse," Anders quipped. "Her horse is named Griffin."

I blushed at that. It was one thing for them to tease me among ourselves, but in front of the only Warden from Weisshaupt we'd ever met? "There's nothing wrong with that," I protested. They both laughed in response.

"So is mine," Johann admitted, smiling. "It's troublesome, though. When you're out with the other Wardens and call for your horse six others come running, too." He sighed wistfully with a shake of his head, "well, perhaps they may end up like the dragons yet."

"That's what I keep hoping," I admitted.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They totally make my day! Oh, and the Chant of Light is bioware, not me_


	14. So much for not wanting a scene

Anders, Nathaniel and I were piled in the back of the wagon with Tobias, Arthur and Roland, who wanted to see the city for themselves. Before leaving Johann had mentioned some of the items they brought, and at the last moment we broke into one of the crates. Wrapped in heavy cloaks emblazoned with the Warden heraldry and lined with the fur of some strange animal native to the Anderfels we all huddled together in the chill air. I ended up near the middle of our line, pushed with our backs to the front of the wagon to cut down on wind, crammed between Anders and Tobias. Winter hadn't started yet, not officially for another week, but it was already cold. It wasn't cold enough to snow, not yet, but it would be soon, perhaps even before we returned home.

I felt nervous since I had a small fortune tucked away on myself. Nathaniel was carrying well over a thousand sovereigns as well, similarly hidden under his armor. I wasn't worried about any of us being pickpocketed, just that we might accidentally drop enough to keep us fed for several years in the streets because of the unfamiliar clothing. Well, that _I _might drop enough to keep us fed for several years, to be more specific.

Johann had found our willingness to ride in the back of the wagon fairly amusing. I guess they were used to more luxury outside Ferelden. I felt like a queen just because I knew I would be able to stay in the inn tonight instead of in a tent halfway between home and town, and riding in a benchless cargo wagon was still better than walking. I'd gotten remarkably spoiled since the blight ended, apparently.

"So," I shouted up to the bench as we traveled. "Do you know if anyone has ever made _archdemon_ scale armor?" Several large crates had arrived from Denerim recently, all covered top to bottom with ominous warnings. I wasn't sure _how_ Alistair had managed to get scales and bones stripped from the thing's body, but I was thrilled he had.

Johann turned in his seat, careful not to hit the driver with his shield. "Well, yes, but not in many years, obviously. We have an old suit on display, but it would fall apart if someone wore it."

"And it's safe to wear?" I asked. "Wearing it wouldn't spread the darkspawn plague to anyone who bumped into you?"

"Just the scales should be fine, or the bones for that matter. It's the…" he paused, hunting for a word, "_fluids_ that kill, yes? Blood, spit, sweat. Once dry," he shrugged, "perfectly safe. After tanning, especially."

"And for the armor maker?" I asked.

"I would say, with gloves, it wouldn't be an issue. Gloves may even be unnecessary."

I grinned hearing that. "Master Wade," I announced, "will be _beside himself_ with joy." The temperamental craftsman had a love of working with unique and obscure materials. Being the first person to work with archdemon in centuries should certainly qualify.

"Will he be back soon, then?" Nathaniel asked. He was getting tired of making his own arrows, although he denied it. I could hear him cursing softly as he tied the bits of feather to the end, though.

"Next week!" I all but sang out with joy. For some reason I had marked his return at us getting closer to normalcy. Even though I rarely required his services for myself, I had been around enough who did to know he was a genius at his work, and enjoyed his company after the many long hours spent in his Denerim shop getting nearly everyone in our group fitted and measured at least once each. "And I'm having him make me some armor!"

"_Archdemon_ armor?" Anders asked, grinning. "Only you would even think of such a thing."

"Clearly not _only_ me," I said, "if someone else did in the past. Besides, I thought you _wanted_ me to start wearing armor?"

"That will be quite a treasure," Johann offered, sounding envious. "Your smith, is he a Warden?"

I shook my head. "No, he's from Denerim. Best in Ferelden, the Crown paid him an unholy sum of money to work for us exclusively. He went back when his shop was wrecked, but it's almost rebuilt now."

"We have our own weaponsmith?" Roland asked, obvious excitement shining in his green eyes.

"And armor," I added. "Armor is actually his specialty, but he does both. He's a real artist."

"With the personality to match," Anders added, snickering. I scoffed.

Tobias looked up from watching the road. "Does he make—"

"Arrows? Thank the Maker, yes," Nathaniel quickly replied. Tobias' face broke out in a grin.

"We'll get a big pile of arrows in town," I offered. "I don't know if Wade is bringing stock with him, or just starting from scratch when he gets here."

"Can he do heraldry?" Arthur asked. I nodded and he looked relieved. "Good. This shield is nice and all," he said, gesturing to the Orlesian kite shield on his back, "but I prefer my old round one. I'd like to get it redone so I can use it again."

"You can use it now if you want," I said. "These aren't uniforms, after all."

"Yeah, but then no one would know I'm a Warden," he answered, grinning.

"Very new additions?" Johan asked me quietly, leaning back into the wagon.

I nodded, smiling. "Two weeks or so."

"I think we all went through that phase," he said. I smiled, not answering. When I'd been a Warden two weeks there was a price on my head and the whole order had been declared traitors and publicly accused of killing the king, and I had to somehow unite everyone to fight a blight instead of fighting me or each other. I had been through that phase, sure, but for me it lasted all of ten hours before I ran into battle and nearly got eaten by an ogre, only to wake up and discover what seemed like the whole world had fallen apart while I was unconscious.

I figured smiling and keeping quiet was the best option in that case.

"So," Roland asked Johann, "are there any Warden songs? Marching music, battle songs, things like that?"

"I believe they have some in Orlais," he said. "But, of course, they are in Orlesian. All the others I heard date to the fourth blight. Tevinter language."

"That wouldn't do me any good," he said. "Can't speak a word of Orlesian. I know a lot of songs _about_ Orlais, but that won't impress anyone."

"So _that's_ why you're always singing," Tobias said, laughing.

"Someone told him women were impressed by a man who could serenade them," Arthur said with a shake of his head. "Hasn't worked yet but he still won't give up. Fancies himself some sort of troubadour now."

"It has so," Roland protested. "You're just jealous because when you sing it sounds like a cat being beaten with another cat." He turned to me next. "Maggie, you're a woman, tell him, would you?"

"She doesn't count," Arthur protested.

"And why not?" I asked.

"Because we all know you Circle types aren't normal." I raised an eyebrow at this and he only laughed.

"True enough," I admitted. "All it takes to win one of us is dropping a book near our feet." Anders laughed at this and put an arm around my shoulder.

"Maker, that must have been some book," Roland said. "What was it?"

"Some book about healing spells, I'm sure. It's been a long time, almost six years or so." He made a loud dramatic sound of anguish. "Of course, then she got conscripted by the Wardens, went off to save the world, and forgot all about me."

"Until we met again over a pile of darkspawn corpses," I said.

"True enough," he said. "The Maker works in mysterious ways."

"Well that doesn't help me," Roland finally said. "I'd just look odd carrying a book about magic, and I doubt I'm going to bump into some pretty girl in the middle of battle." He shifted to look at me. "Why don't you recruit more girls?"

"What am I, your matchmaker?" I laughed. "Come devote your life to killing darkspawn since Roland needs someone to keep him warm at night? Any preferences? Should I be looking for blonds, redheads, what?"

Everyone laughed at that but Roland only said "Blond, preferably. With blue eyes, and a nice laugh."

Tobias shifted in his seat, the skin around his blue eyes crinkling with humor. "Don't you get any ideas now!" he said, shaking a finger at Roland.

"Sorry, Tobias, but your laugh is _all_ wrong," Roland replied, snickering.

"For what my abnormal mage opinion may be worth," I offered, "I do know at least one woman who would be very impressed if someone sang to her. So I would imagine it does work on some people." I could see Leliana being quite taken by that, in fact. Unfortunately my female friends could be counted on one hand, and the majority listed killing things among their better skills. "Granted, most every woman I know is a well-trained killer, so I don't know if that helps you."

"Hey, common interests are very important. Always nice to have something to chat about over breakfast. So when do I get to meet your friend? What's she like?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, let's see. She's a former bard from Orlais, spent time as a Chantry Sister for a bit after that, I once watched her take down an ogre with a bow and a well placed kick, she's currently leading the expedition to recover Andraste's ashes up in Haven, oh, and she's got about ten years on you. So I wouldn't hold out waiting."

"Maker's breath," Nathaniel groaned. "If you want a girl that badly just say 'hello, I'm a Grey Warden.' Eventually someone will be impressed enough to take you to her bed."

"_Really?!_" His eyes lit up with that.

"_Please_ don't encourage him," Arthur pled. "I'm so tired of helping him hide from angry fathers and brothers."

"Our lives are short and ugly," Johann interjected from the bench of the wagon. "Enjoy what time you have."

"There," I said. "See? I'm not the only one who says that."

We were less than an hour outside the city, dusk falling rapidly, when Johann called back to us. The wagon was slowing to a halt. "Company," was all he said, pulling a sword off his back.

As I jumped over the side of the wagon I could see large group of bandits on the road. An overturned wagon and several bodies sat not far away: their earlier victims. Nathaniel and Tobias, who stayed in the wagon, began launching one arrow after another. They deftly managed to avoid all of us as we moved through the group, cutting them down. Carrying only a single dagger, I left my staff on my back and focused on large clusters of the bandits, freezing them in place before casting lightning or fire, while stabbing any who came to close to me.

I looked over the scene once we were done. Arthur was standing near a decapitated body, covered in blood. "I suppose I got a bit carried away," he admitted sheepishly.

"Training with Oghren?" I asked. He nodded. If there was one thing berserkers could be counted on, it was to leave a trail of headless corpses in their wake. I looked down at the body. "Well, I think he would be just as unhappy if it was a nice clean stab wound that killed him."

Nathaniel, Anders and I automatically jumped into our customary rooting through the pockets of the bodies. After seeing what we were doing Arthur, Roland, and Tobias joined in. Johann looked at us and cleared his throat. I glanced up at him questioningly. "Have things been so difficult?" he asked with confusion. _Oh wait,_ I thought, _we're rich now._ _Technically_.

"I don't believe in wasting things," I said by way of explanation. "We can sell their weapons and use the money buy things we need." I gave him an embarrassed smile. "I went hungry during the blight, too frequently. We never really had money; we had to hunt to eat. And if the hunters had no luck…" I shrugged. "Those kind of habits never really go away."

"You don't now, though, do you?"

"Not today, no. I don't know what might happen tomorrow, though." He didn't seem to have an argument for that, and even helped us load our looted items onto the wagon. Nathaniel knew of a stream nearby so we hiked over as a group to clean up. Wandering into town drenched with gore wasn't usually a good idea.

I was kneeling over the water, splashing my face and trying to clean my hair as best I could, when I felt a tug at the back of my mind.

"Maggie?" Anders asked.

"I noticed," I replied, climbing to my feet quickly. Patting my chest to make sure the money hadn't fallen out I reached for my staff.

Johann called out a word I didn't know, quickly correcting himself to repeat it in our language. "Darkspawn!"

I nodded, trying to get a direction. Nothing, yet. It was too faint to pinpoint.

"I can feel them, but not _where_," I said, scanning the horizon in all directions. The feeling was growing more intense. I noticed even Tobias started to shift around, holding a hand to his head.

"They're going to try and ambush us," Nathaniel said suddenly. "From the dirt!"

_Damn!_ I always forgot they could do that. The seven of us readied our weapons and tensed for the attack. A hurlock exploded up next to me, sending clods of dirt flying. I froze him quickly before swinging my staff as hard as I could to shatter him. We were surrounded in seconds. Tobias, with his bow, was struggling to attack at close range.

"Get to higher ground, Tobias," I shouted. Roland slammed a shield into the genlock that had been targeting the archer, sending it to the ground, before thrusting his sword through the monster's throat. Tobias scurried back to stand with Anders and Nathaniel, where he resumed shooting off arrows at a fierce rate.

"Behind you, Maggie," Arthur called just after I brought a genlock down. Readying a spell before I turned, I cast in time to see another genlock with blades raised, frozen mid attack. A blast of stone brought him down.

Finally, they were gone. "That was unexpected," I said, stomping back to the stream once more.

"Anyone hurt," Anders asked. Once the darkspawn blood had been cleaned I examined my arms and legs.

"I'm fine," I replied. Most of us agreed. Arthur had taken a sword across the back of his shoulder, a small cut, but reported it dutifully. Anders healed it quickly and without a comment. I watched from a distance, glad to see Arthur's earlier disgust at being healed didn't return. That, or he hid it well. Johann had been stabbed through a calf, a more severe but not yet serious wound. Anders took care of that as well.

Johann examined the wound once it was healed and nodded, clearly impressed. "You are _very_ good," he told Anders. "Not even a small scar." I could see Anders beaming with pride at the compliment.

Cleaned and assured we wouldn't be ambushed again our trip was resumed. It was evening once we arrived in the city. Johann continued on to the docks for his ship after a brief goodbye and we hiked straight to the inn. I decided paying extra for six rooms would be wise since both Roland and Tobias seemed absolutely insistent on using their newfound Warden status to find company for the evening. The innkeeper, recognizing Anders, Nathaniel, and I, offered us a private room for dinner, which I readily accepted.

"No eating with the common folk, then?" Tobias quipped as we sat over bowls of thick stew and large glasses of wine.

"Not if you actually want to _eat_," I said. "Feel free to have a few drinks later, I'll even give you some money for it, but we won't get a moment's peace if we eat out there." I sighed. Sometimes I wondered if I'd ever be able to just blend into a crowd again. It was tempting to do something drastic, like shaving my head, just to see if it would work. Unfortunately that specific idea was out. I'd managed to burn most of my hair off when I was an apprentice after a fire spell got out of control. Jowan had insisted since then I had a 'bumpy skull.' He stopped when I burned his hair off in retaliation, of course, but I wasn't about to go through that again.

"So what are the plans while we're here?" Roland asked.

"I need to see my dressmaker and don't you dare laugh at that, I have to put in royal appearances at least once a year and since I didn't have my own dress the last one ended with me destroying one of Queen Rowan's, sit for that lousy portrait, talk to a monument maker about a statue I want for the courtyard, buy a ton of horses, hire stablehands and riding instructors, some other shopping…" I paused, finishing my wine and knowing the next part would be popular. "And buy a few breeding pairs of mabari."

I was right: they met that with hoots and cheers.

"I hope," I said, "we can eventually have a mabari for anyone who wants one. I mean, we _are_ Ferelden. There's a precedent for it, too. They say Hafter fought with Mabari when he united the Alamarri against the second blight. And dogs have become Wardens."

"I say we get a painting done of all of us rushing into battle against the darkspawn, dogs at our sides," Anders said. "That would be perfect for the main hall. Just don't tell my cat I thought of it."

"My father always said you can't have a proper Ferelden hall without at least one picture of a mabari," Nathaniel added. "It may be one of the few things he was right about." He chuckled, shaking his head. "So, we never had a chance to talk, since our visitor was around. What _are_ you going to do about his… advice?"

"Well, he's _right_," I admitted. "I mean, let her talk, I don't care about that. But if something happens that puts us in danger, or keeps us from our work?" I sighed, "I don't see that I have much of a choice. The order must go on, at any cost."

"I agree," Anders agreed, "but I feel kind of dirty even thinking about it." I nodded in agreement.

"What _are_ you three talking about?" Roland said, sounding confused. Nathaniel and I exchanged a glance and he nodded. He had spent a lot more time with the recruits working on training; he had a better idea of their character than I did.

"You know about what happened in Denerim," I said. "Well, the _new_ Grand Cleric is a close friend of the last Grand Cleric. One who shares her fantastic opinion of me."

"And?" Arthur asked.

"Well, Weisshaupt was concerned that I may have had a hand in the last one's death. Not because they wouldn't want me to kill her, but because using magic would have been sloppy."

"So they told you if you take out her replacement to make sure it can't be connected to you?" Tobias summarized, quickly jumping to the point. I nodded.

"And that she _should_ take out her replacement if the woman keeps us from doing our duty," Anders added.

"Well, of course you should," Roland said quickly. "Being the only ones who can stop a blight trumps everything else, doesn't it?"

"It does," I agreed. "I just don't like the thought. It seems too close to political meddling."

"I agree," Tobias said. "It does seem low, but our work is more important. I mean, who cares if souls are saved when everyone's dead?"

Arthur also voiced an agreement. "I normally wouldn't advocate killing a member of the clergy, but really... anyone who survived a blight and still tries to make trouble for the Wardens is just too stupid to live."

"He makes a good point," Anders said, nodding.

"No need to get headaches over it now," I said. "We deal with it when it comes to that."

"You mean 'if'," Nathaniel pointed out.

"No," I sighed, "I really didn't."

Anders and I headed to our room not long after, while the three young men dragged Nathaniel out carousing with them. "Please don't let this night end with me bailing you out," I warned as they left, just before Nathaniel slipped me the gold he had been holding for safe keeping.

The next morning we met them for breakfast, giggling as the four held their heads and groaned. "Should I help them," Anders mused aloud, "or let this be a learning experience?"

"Damnit, mage," Arthur moaned, "it's bad enough you two woke me this morning and don't think we couldn't hear, they could hear you in Rivain, just help us already. Or I'll get sick on your robes." Anders chuckled and cast a quick spell on each of them, sending color back into their faces almost instantly. "Thank you," Arthur said, reaching for coffee. "It would have been a shame for me to get sick on you. It's such a _pretty_ dress." He giggled at his own joke then, while Roland rolled his eyes.

"Don't think I can't do something to make you feel even worse right now," Anders threatened with a smile.

"I'm _never_ going anywhere with you three again," Nathaniel said with a shudder once he was capable of speaking again.

"I thought we had a fantastic night," Roland said. "I met the girl of my dreams!" I raised my eyebrow dubiously. As bad as they looked today he could have been drunk enough to think a particularly shapely tree was the girl of his dreams the night before. "Her name was Colleen. Or Catherine." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Or was it Caitilin?"

"I thought it was Aine?" Tobias said. "That's what her husband said when he started yelling."

I left them debating this point to get ready for the portrait. Once my best robes were on I added some makeup and tried to fix my hair. One curl decided sticking straight up was the only thing it would do today, so I yanked on a cowl and hoped the painter would take some artistic liberties. I passed Nathaniel back the money he had given me the night before to hold and he volunteered to arrange for the horses and dogs while I was out.

Thankfully the painter already had a good head start, working from existing pictures of me. I only had to sit still long enough for him to fine tune it a bit and add some color. Taking a peek over his shoulder I saw a very official, very serious version of me. I also noticed he hadn't included the scar across my eyebrow, but figured it wasn't supposed to be realism. I dropped off a spare set of normal Warden robes, which looked basically like my own set but with fewer enchantments, so he could get the look of them down, and left after a couple hours.

The dressmaker was next, handing her my old gown and asking for a copy. She took my new measurements and clucked her tongue about how women of standing should cultivate a delicate shape. That line of discussion was quickly shut down when I asked if that meant the darkspawn should call me 'my lady' ask me to dance before running me through with a sword.

After several other stops a thick hand grabbed me by the waist. "Why the rush?" an unfamiliar voice said, laughing.

I turned around, finding a filthy looking man in cheap armor grinning down at me. He already reeked of ale despite the early hour. "Please take your hand off me," I said, trying to sound threatening without being loud enough to cause a scene.

"What's your name? Let's go get a drink, have some fun!" _Maker's breath_, I thought. Well, at least it wasn't an attack. And I did always say I wanted to go out and not have everyone fawn over me knowing who I was.

"Sorry, not interested."

"Aw, come on, I can show you a really good time," he said, sliding his hand from my waist to my hip. Fantastic, it was going to be one of those days. Was he so drunk the mage robes and staff didn't tell him anything?

"_Not interested._ Now remove your hand or I'll remove it from you."

He laughed. "Shouldn't it be _for_ you'?"

"Not when I plan to remove it from your body," I said, barely keeping my anger in check as I grabbed his wrist from my hip.

"Woah," he said, still laughing. "You're a live one!" He grabbed my other wrist, leaving me almost as disadvantaged. Almost. "You don't know who you're dealing with, I'm a Crimson Oar! Now come on, tell me your name."

If he had any idea who and what I was he'd most likely wet himself right into his armor. "A Crimson Oar? Funny, my order, we've got a color in our name, too."

"Oh yeah?" he said, leering. "What's that, sweetheart? Pink Bunnies?" Yep, that did it. I was just going to tell him before, really. I figured I tell him, he apologizes, and I can spare myself a huge scene in the streets of Amaranthine. Bunnies, though? And _pink_? I _hated_ pink.

"Grey Wardens," I said, sending a rush of lighting through my hand into the wrist I still gripped. He cried out and jumped away from me, releasing his grip instantly. I dropped his hand and crossed my arms. He clutched his wrist to his chest, looking horrified. "And my _name_, for you, can be either Warden Commander or Arlessa, take your pick. So unless you want to find the Crimson Oars very quickly outlawed in the Arling of Amaranthine you will stop harassing women who are unlucky enough to cross your path. Am I _understood_?"

"Yes, Ser! Or My Lady. Right, whichever is better. Very sorry, won't happen again."

_Andraste's tits, I hate mercenaries_, I thought, watching him bolt down the street.

A couple women who had been gossiping as they tended to a flowerbed stopped to applaud. "You tell him!" one called after me.

Another bolt of lightning hit the man as he retreated, causing his pace to double. I looked over to see the others standing by a wall, packs loaded with items. Anders shot me a grin.

So much for not wanting a scene.

* * *

_I've realized 'my' interpretation of Ferelden is decidedly more Celtic in flavor than Anglo-Saxon. Blame it on my Irish Studies minor, or the fact that they put it all in there for me to find what with the character names and culture accepting of female warriors. And even the dog thing, which just reminds me of Cuchulain. All of it just reminds me of the Ulster cycle of mythology. _


	15. I'll spend it all on minstrels!

_A chapter where people talk a lot but very little happens. _

* * *

Nathaniel had managed to find us a phenomenal deal on horses, although from what little he told me we wouldn't exactly have to worry about bargain hunting anymore. Once I picked up my newly enchanted daggers and paid we were headed home, in a new wagon pulled by four new horses. The new stable-hand sat beside me on the bench, showing me how to handle the wagon, while Nathaniel and Roland, and the stable-hand who would teach riding rode alongside.

No one had any puppies available, but a breeder agreed to move to the Keep with his dogs and work for us, which was just as good as getting the puppies now. The horse breeders must have seen Nathaniel with gold burning a hole in his pocket from a mile away, though. When he told them he wanted six horses, a lot for any one person to buy in Ferelden, they managed to talk him up to buying the eight they had, and hiring the staff. Apparently he was the first person to even walk in for months and looked exactly like a big exit sign to them.

"You need to _pay attention_ to the road, Commander." I shook my head and looked closer. Arthur was giving me a dirty look, I'd almost run him off the road by mistake.

"Sorry, sorry," I said. I'd been trying to drive the horses and keep an eye out for darkspawn at the same time. Well, so to speak.

"Maggie, are you listening right now?" Anders asked. We were very close to the spot we'd been ambushed at on the way there.

"I'm trying to," I admitted. He and Nathaniel had both gotten much better, but I was still well beyond their ability just because of how much longer I'd been in the Wardens. The man next to me cast us a strange glance, realizing he didn't have the subtext of our conversation.

"Why don't you let me deal with the horses," Anders offered. "It isn't as though we'd ever go anywhere without the other. That way you can pay more attention."

"Good idea," I admitted, and called for everyone to stop. I jumped back into the wagon from the bench and Anders climbed up, taking my seat so we could continue on.

"What was that about?" Tobias asked as I sat down. Arthur briefly glanced up before returning to reading the book he'd bought in town. Well, the book I bought for him when he started counting the coppers from his pockets to see if he had enough.

"I can't focus on listening for darkspawn _and _pay attention to learning a new skill _and _watch the road at the same time," I admitted, keeping my voice low enough that it wouldn't carry.

"Anders can't keep an eye out for them?" he asked.

"Not as well as I could. I've been a Warden longer than anyone else here."

"How long have all of you been Wardens?"

"Anders and Oghren joined over a year ago, although Oghren fought with me during the blight. Nathaniel joined a day after they did. Sigrun a couple months later, but she came from the Legion of the Dead, so fighting darkspawn was old hand to her. I joined a little over four years ago, just before the battle of Ostagar, and King Alistair six months before that."

"So you had less experience than _me_ when you were fighting the blight?"

"At the beginning, yeah. You pick things up quick when you don't have a choice, though."

"How old were you?"

"About four years younger than I am now," I said, grinning. He rolled his eyes and I laughed. "Fair enough. I don't know, not exactly. Best I can tell, I'm about six and twenty now. So I was about two and twenty then, although I may be off a year or so in either direction."

"You don't know how _old_ you are?" he said, sounding shocked. So, of course, I had to go into explaining why I didn't know when my birthday was. Alistair, when he found out, swore it would be changed. Even when Arl Eamon's bitch of a wife relegated him to glorified stable boy he still got a cake on his birthday. Somehow, he'd managed to do it, too, but it turns out they didn't just not tell us our last names or birthdays, they didn't even place them into record, only our age upon arrival at the tower. So, I had to stick with my fake birthday.

"So why don't you just find your family and ask them? You're out of the tower now," Arthur asked, looking up from his book.

"I don't know how I would," I said. "I mean, they called me a monster and locked me away until the templars arrived, so a big part of my mind says I'm better off without them anyways, since really, who does that to a four year old? But, even so, I only know I'm from West Hill, I don't know my last name. The Circle gives us all a nice generic one."

"I've been to West Hill," Tobias interjected. "My brother married a girl from their alienage, I went for the wedding. Believe me, you're not missing much, and that was _before_ the blight."

"I think I lived on a farm, not in the city. I remember animals, big ones. I had a dog."

"I grew up on a farm, too," Arthur said, before a look of surprise flashed across his face. "_That's_ why you have the same last name?" Arthur asked, looking up from his book. I didn't think he had been paying attention.

"Well, yeah. What, did you think we were siblings or something? We're not _that_ deviant!" Why did everyone jump to that conclusion first? We didn't look a thing alike, not even a little. If anyone in the Wardens could be mistaken for a relative of mine it was actually most likely to be Arthur, he had the same curly dark hair as me. Even that would be a stretch, though, since where I was pale and short with green eyes, he was fairly tall with blue eyes and darker skin.

"No, _that_ thought didn't occur to me," Arthur said, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. "I figured you were married."

I coughed, trying not to laugh and failing.

"What's so funny?" Tobias asked. "You're not?"

"We're _mages_," I said, laughing.

"What's she laughing about?" Anders called back from the front seat.

I managed to choke out "they thought we were _married_" between fits of laughter.

He scoffed. "You didn't notice the mage robes?"

Arthur shook his head. "All right, I know people kick mages around, I'm sure I've been no better, but you two are taking it a bit far. There's no law against that."

"No," I agreed, "but it's strongly discouraged, most priests would refuse. Besides, what's it matter? Not like we need to worry about children being legitimate or anything."

He shrugged. "I bet the Revered Mother in Amaranthine wouldn't see a problem with it, she seems to like both of you. But, fair enough."

"Does it bother you?" Tobias asked. "Not having children?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I'm always nervous around them. Most women see a baby and they beg to hold it, but I only want to make excuses why I can't and step away." I leaned towards them, not sure if this was a secret. "You know sometimes they have a big squishy bit right in the middle of the head? Something about that just _isn't right._"

"That's actually normal," Arthur said, looking at me like I was an idiot. "All babies have it. Goes away eventually. My sister has four kids." Well, how would I know that? It isn't as though infants were arriving at the tower daily, and whenever someone got pregnant the baby was gone within hours of being born. And I still say that isn't right, it seems like just a recipe for disaster.

"Really? Ew. Anyways," I added, conjuring up a small ball of fire in my hand, letting it hover for a moment before it winked out of existence. "I wouldn't damn a child to this. I mean, its fine for me, I fight monsters for a living, but that's not exactly a career path for everyone."

"I feel like it _should_ bother me," Tobias said with a frown. "I grew up hearing how important every elf child is. I can't really force myself to care, though. Maybe it's one of those things I'd be upset by when I'm older."

He may have had a point. Tobias was one of the youngest among us now, he had turned one and twenty not long ago. "I hate to say, but if you think you'll care, um… best get going on that now. Later may be too late."

"You volunteering, Maggie?" he laughed.

"Hm, should I? Let's ask Anders what he thinks!"

"Kidding, kidding!" Tobias held his hands up, scooting away from me.

"What about you," Tobias said, turning on Arthur. "Wishing you could have a million repressed little ones to follow you everywhere."

"I am not repressed," Arthur said, snorting.

"Oh please, when that girl tried to get you to go back to the inn with her last night you all but ran away screaming."

"That's just because I wasn't interested in her," Arthur insisted. "Not because I'm _repressed._ And really, are we suddenly in Orlais? Should we all begin comparing conquests?"

"Not interested?" Tobias scoffed. "Did you _see_ her? She had the bigge—" he flushed, glancing at me. "Well, she was very pretty," he finished primly. I snorted with laughter.

"She wasn't my type," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes.

"Pretty isn't your type?" Tobias asked, sounding incredulous.

"Nothing wrong with pretty, _she_ just wasn't my type."

"Leave him alone, Tobias," I warned, seeing there was more to this conversation it seemed. I had two theories going on at the moment, but Tobias didn't seem to be on the same page as either of them. "It's none of our business."

"Oh, come on," Tobias protested, grinning. "I'm too curious now. What is your _type_, Arthur?"

"_Tobias_," I warned, but Arthur just laughed with a shrug.

"You _sure_ you want to know?" he asked, grinning. Suddenly the conversation made perfect sense. Unfortunately Tobias didn't seem to have figured it out yet.

"Why wouldn't I? If I see anyone fitting I can point her out to you." Nope, definitely didn't get it.

"Well…" Arthur began, glancing at me. I grinned and shook my head, making a face while tapping my head as I cast a glance towards Tobias who was sitting expectantly. "Dark eyes, a good smile, decent legs. Decent, um, where the legs end. Long hair is nice, too."

"And? You realize you've just described this not your type girl." I put a hand over my mouth, trying to hide my grin. Tobias, oblivious, went on. "I mean, that's her _exactly_."

"Yeah, I suppose it might be," Arthur agreed. "Of course, it also describes her brother."

Tobias looked confused for a moment. I sat watching him, mouth open like he was trying to put together a puzzle without turning the pieces over. "ohhhh" he finally said.

"Sorry," Arthur apologized with a shrug.

"For what?" I asked.

"You should have told us," Tobias said at the same time.

"Why?" Arthur said. "Roland knows, we've been friends for years, but it doesn't change my ability to do my job or anything. It shouldn't matter."

I glanced over at Tobias, wondering if I would have to stop an argument. "Idiot," he finally said. "He was _asking_ me and Nathaniel about you, while Roland was off chatting up someone! We could have put in a good word!"

Arthur only blinked a few times, before saying "he was?" in a small voice.

"Idiot!" was all Tobias said in reply.

"Where did you four end up going, anyways?" I asked. I wasn't aware there even was a place in Amaranthine to drink besides the inn.

"Some kind of party, I have no idea. Old fashioned music, but the ale was good," Tobias offered.

"It was a _harvest festival_," Arthur said.

"Well, I don't know these things. I've lived in Denerim my whole life."

"Damn," I muttered. "We figured you were just going to drink at the inn. I would have gone too, I love festivals. There's always dancing."

We returned home without incident and found everything was basically as it had been left. I cornered Varel to find out exactly how much money had been in that box Weisshaupt sent, but he evaded the questions.

"Just tell me," I said. "I'm not going to spend it all on ale and parties. I just want to know what kind of resources we have now."

Nathaniel standing next to me shrugged. "She's really not as bad with money as everyone says," he assured him.

He told me. I started coughing. Nathaniel had to help me to a chair after a moment when it became clear I wasn't about to regain my composure any time soon.

"Can you repeat that?" I finally managed to squeak out. He did.

"Well then," I said lamely. "I suppose that will make things a bit easier for us. You know, for the next several hundred years."

"Maybe not _that_ long, once the repairs are over," Varel said, "but you aren't far off."

"Huh," was all I could reply. Something struck me. "Where would they even _get_ that kind of money? I mean, they must have a ton if they just gave us that much. I thought the Anderfels were supposed to be poor. Like, really poor, poorer than Ferelden even."

"I'm sure they've been stashing things away for a thousand years," Nathaniel said. "I mean, look how much Orlais gave us right away, it must have been nothing to them."

"True. Well, first order, hire more workers. Tons of them. Let's get this place fixed as soon as we can. No need to live like this if we don't have to, I'm sure we'd all love to see it done before we stomp off to our deaths. And have them build an add-on, next to the kitchen with a door to the main hall as well. I want it to hold a mess hall that will seat at least 200 as well as a place to train and practice indoors for the winter." I thought briefly, wondering what else we needed, nearly giddy at the thought of virtually unlimited finances. "And I want our own farm here, so we're totally self-sufficient. Knock down the walls to expand and move them further out if necessary. We can save in the long run if we grow our own food instead of hauling it in from elsewhere. Plus, we won't be weak to a siege. No one's starving the Ferelden wardens out again." All right, the last bit was sheer paranoia; I had no intention of staging a coup. Still, it was always safe to be prepared. Besides, even in the north we still had winter to deal with. I didn't want to announce 'hey, no food this week, snow closed the roads,' to a room of hungry Wardens.

Varel winced at my extravagance but nodded. "Anything else?"

"Build a vault, I guess. Something that can't get broken into. Nathaniel, you and Sigrun may want to work on that, you both know lockpicking and can point out the weaknesses. I can add some magical traps as well. Maybe get it to shoot flame at someone if they try and pick the lock. I'm sure I can think of something nice and painful."

The seneschal actually smiled at that, nodding. "Good call," he said. "That's going to cost us a lot, but I can't find fault with most of it. It's all things we would need eventually."

"Told you," Nathaniel replied.

"And then we're hiring every single musician in the Arling and throwing the _biggest_ party ever!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.

"Maggie," Varel began before seeing the expression on my face. Nathaniel covered his mouth and looked down, shaking his head.

"Kidding!" I told him. "Maker's breath, you all act like I'd blow everything on minstrels to follow me around or something. I'm not an _idiot_! We may _have_ to do something, eventually, when the repairs are complete, I suspect Alistair will want to do a proper royal visit. But it'll be small, I promise. I'll even make him bring the musicians himself."

Varel did as I asked, within days a legion of new workers descended on the keep, expanding the walls, repairing the outbuildings, fixing the main hall, everything I could have asked for. The reconstruction estimate had been bumped up to less than five years, from earlier ones that suggested my Calling holding off long enough for me to see it done would be a very close thing.

* * *

Snow was falling softly outside, glittering in the near-darkness, as I ran in from checking on the wagon. Nathaniel, still blurry-eyed from sleep, was talking about an angry father who descended on the Keep out for Roland's blood last week. Fortunately he left once it had been pointed out to him that if his daughter was so willing to fall into bed with a Warden she'd only just met, the odds of her still possessing the virtue he accused Roland of stealing were slim to none. Nathaniel could have a sharp tongue when the situation called for it. The man had stormed off, red faced and silent. Anders giggled while Arthur only shook his head, a resigned expression on his face. "Are we ready?" Anders called as I stomped into the main hall, kicking my boots against the floor. He was shivering over the fire and I wondered, for maybe the twentieth time since dragging myself out of bed well before dawn, why I thought planning a large recruitment trip in the winter was a good idea.

"As much as we will be," I said. This would be our longest trip so far.

"Don't worry, Maggie," Nathaniel said as he gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. "We'll be fine here, and I'll send reports along to all your major stops so you know what's going on." I nodded, feeling only slightly reassured. It wasn't that I didn't trust Nathaniel to handle anything that happened; I just hated knowing I would be out of the loop for so long while we traveled. I turned to leave as a voice shouted from the stairs.

"Hey," Sigrun called, running down dressed in her cloak, feet bare. "Leaving without saying goodbye? I even got up early!" I hadn't expected her, or Nathaniel for that matter, to see us off. I went over and dropped to one knee to give her a quick hug. She shoved her cloak back to return the gesture, revealing that it had been tossed on over her nightdress. "Don't forget to check Dust Town for recruits," she reminded me. "The Warrior caste aren't the only fighters in Orzammar."

"I won't," I assured her.

"Yeah, I know," she laughed. "I had to remind you anyways, just in case. Now, I'm going back to bed. Don't get in too much trouble out there." With that she stomped back up the stairs, shivering all the while, and leaving Nathaniel staring at the spot where she had been standing.

"I bet she'd appreciate someone keeping her warm," Anders said, elbowing him.

"…What?" Nathaniel said, after a moment. I only shook my head before giving him a hug goodbye as well.

I pulled my cloak tighter around myself as we went outside. Although the new armor Master Wade had crafted for me from the archdemon's scales was much warmer than my robes had ever been, almost as if enchanted, I was still freezing, as much from the cold as I was from residual exhaustion due to waking so early. It was my idea, though. If we left at daybreak we could make it to Jowan's farm just over the Highever border before it got dark in the late afternoon, meaning only one night of camping out in the snow would be required before we reached the castle.

Oghren was already waiting for us outside, perched on the bench of the wagon next to Rose. She and Arthur would be joining us; everyone else had a pile of excuses. I could have ordered anyone and they would have come, but I'd rather take volunteers who would actually enjoy the trip. They were horrified at the thought of travel in the winter, disturbed by the idea of being in a city built under a mountain, or wanted to stay at the keep to work on some new skill or another. Or, in one case, danced around replying to a demand not to cause an international incident by attempting to seduce half the women of the noble caste. Rose was curious to see the rest of Ferelden, though, and Arthur took any chance to get out and do something, claiming he spent too many years training as it was. I wasn't entirely sure how, as he was barely twenty years yet, but it didn't seem worth questioning. He certainly fought like someone who had trained for years, after all.

Oghren's armor, brand new, all but glowed. Amazingly, Wade had managed to get a set of heavy archdemon-bone plate done for him, in the Warden style, before we were set to leave. I had insisted on getting it made, since Oghren had as much to do with killing the archdemon as I did, but figured we would be waiting months. When Oghren left Orzammar his reputation was all but destroyed, I thought he'd enjoy walking in rubbing a reminder of a kill no one would ever be able to top in their faces. Where my light armor, complete with the leggings I wanted, had small silver dual griffins inlaid into it in place of the usual plain studs, his had one large griffin at the center of the breastplate.

North across the coast to Highever and West Hill was the plan, before moving on to Orzammar. Depending on our luck thus far, either back home the way we came, or hooking south along the lake to stop in Redcliffe and the Bannorn to continue our search. The biggest wagon we owned would hold ten, fifteen if people didn't mind sitting fairly close, and we could also unhitch some of the horses to ride separately if it came to that. I wanted to return with it filled. If we were dragging ourselves across the whole of northern Ferelden in the dead of winter I wanted it to be worth our while.

"Why are we not waiting for the spring," Rose asked from the wagon, tuning her lute.

"Because your commander is an idiot," I replied. "Sorry, no better reason than that."

She actually laughed at that. "Well, good to know." Anders boosted me into the wagon and I grabbed his arms to pull him up before we both gave Arthur a lift.

Oghren had just flicked the reigns, sending us rolling, when an armor clad shape came barreling out of the Keep's gates, pack dragging behind him. Pulling the horses to a halt we stopped, looking. "Fine, fine! I won't seduce any noblewomen," Roland said, panting for breath. "Come on, let me come with you. It's _boring_ here. And Oghren's the one training me, anyways. What should I do while he's gone, learn lockpicking?"

"Swear it," I told him. "I don't want any of us to have to fight an honor proving while we're there. Orzammar is one of the few cities that takes us _seriously_."

"Fine, I swear," he said, trying to pin me in place with his dark eyes.

"Don't you pull that puppy dog eye thing with me, if it doesn't work when Anders does it, it sure as the Black City won't work for you," I warned.

"Fine," Roland said, giving up on his wide-eyed expression and adopting a pleading one instead. "I promise: no angry noblemen. Come on, please?"

Arthur looked seconds away from joining in the pleading, they both liked to go on any trip outside the Keep they could. I looked over at Oghren, he shrugged. Anders gave me a similar expression. "Does Nathaniel know?"

"He's the one who told me I might be able to catch you if I ran."

Having an extra sword on the trip _would_ be helpful once we got into the deep roads. I sighed. "Fine. Don't make me regret this, or I'll stick you on stable duty when we get home."

He cheered and climbed up into the wagon, planting a kiss on my cheek before sitting next to Arthur. "Thank you!" Roland exclaimed. "You are the very very best commanding officer ever!" Oghren urged the horses on and we headed out, the Keep quickly disappearing over the horizon.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that. "Please just exercise _some_ self control. Just because a woman bats her eyes at you doesn't mean you _have_ to bed her." I sighed again. "And think about how bad it has to be for a _mage_ to tell you this."

"Right," he said. "You are _completely_ right, Maggie. No noblewomen. Strictly smith caste and lower."

"Maker's breath," I groaned. This was going to end in the proving arena, I just knew it.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Roland swore. "I'll be good. Really."

As if predicting disasters to come Rose took that moment to start playing. I recognized the tune; it was an old one called Cuckolds All A-Row. "Clever, Rose. Very clever," I said dryly.

"Yeah, I thought so," she replied with a grin.

"Who are you kidding?" Anders whispered in my ear. "That puppy dog thing _always_ works on you."

"It does not!" I protested.

"Oh yeah? Explain this, then," he said, tapping a finger against my new armor with a chuckle.

* * *

_Ferelden's relative poverty is my speculation. Figure since they were an occupied territory for a century, had a war of independence less than 40 years ago and a blight much more recently, their economy would be pretty much devastated. Plus, the hints given of other nations suggest most are closer to Renaissance culture or later, making Ferelden fairly primitive in comparison, which doesn't suggest any sort of trade or economic power. And I'd like to imagine the Wardens as an organization are disgustingly filthy rich, like Knights Templar rich. No reason, just seemed fun to me and we've had enough of poor people being poor. Figure it's about time the Wardens can do their jobs without pinching pennies._

_And I forgot to mention last chapter, this just passed fifty reviews! Whooo!  
_


	16. Much better than our usual schemes

I could see the roof of a small farm in the distance. "That's it!" I shouted to Anders, pointing wildly as I tried to climb up and join him on the driver's bench of the wagon.

"Maker's breath," he muttered. "I see it, calm down. You'll fall out."

"Where is it we're stopping," I could hear Roland asking from behind me.

"You didn't see her pointing? Right there," Oghren said. "Old friend of Maggie's."

"Maggie has old friends?" Arthur asked. "I thought everyone she knew before the Wardens was locked up in the tower. Or Anders."

"Well, this one got out," Oghren said. "Thanks to her. Keep your mouth shut about it, though, no point letting her hard work go to waste."

A tall figure had opened the front door as we approached, alerted by the sound of the horses. I couldn't stop myself from jumping up and down in the back of the wagon, waving both arms over my head. He returned the gesture. Finally, we stopped. Anders quickly jumped down before reaching up to grab me by the waist, lowering me to the ground. As soon as my feet hit the dirt I took off at a run.

"Jowan!" I shrieked, launching myself at him.

"Maggie!" he said in reply, laughing. "I've missed you!"

I stepped back, looking at him. "Maker's breath, look at you, you're a giant!" He had always been very tall, and very very skinny. Even being a foot shorter I outweighed him by the end of our teenage years. Not anymore, though. Farm life, it seemed, agreed with him.

"Look at me?" he replied. "What about you? Since when do you wear armor? Or carry weapons?"

"I learned a new set of spells, so I use weapons and magic together now. And after a few too many stab wounds I got tired of being lectured and promised Anders I'd switch to armor."

"You're carrying a sword," Jowan observed, grabbing my shoulders to spin me in place. "And daggers. And a staff. Maker's breath, expecting trouble?"

"Those are just her normal going-outside weapons," Anders supplied, stepping over to join us.

"Hello," Jowan said, looking to Anders, "I remember you. The last in a long line of poor sods begging me for information about Maggie. I didn't get a chance to pass on your message. I'm sorry about that, a few things came up." He turned to me. "Mags, you know that blond guy, the tall one who stood you up a couple years back and made you cry? Turns out that now he has a thing for you. Said he'll be in the library all day, and you can find him there."

"Yeah, I found him," I replied. "I think he followed me to Amaranthine. Caught him killing some of my darkspawn in the storerooms."

"Are you two done having fun at my expense?" Anders asked.

"Almost," Jowan replied. "Now Maggie, I don't know if you really want to go after this guy. I asked Kinnon about him. Told me he's the only one in the tower who might rival the trail of broken hearts left in your wake. Don't I have enough trouble consoling the poor souls you destroy? I'd rather not have to console you, too."

"I hardly think telling someone 'well what did you expect' qualifies as consoling," I replied.

Jowan waived a hand dismissively. "I can be very comforting when the need arises."

"I'd hope so," I teased. "You have years of skinned knees and Maker knows what else ahead of you."

"That I do," he agreed, smiling.

I quickly introduced Arthur, Roland and Rose, and reintroduced Oghren, who Jowan had met in Redcliffe.

"This would be Anders, then" Jowan said finally. "Never had a name to go with the face. You know, when you asked me about her she was _at_ her Harrowing. I didn't even know if Maggie would survive yet."

"Well that explains why you looked at me like I was insane," Anders replied.

"No," Jowan said. "I thought you _were_ insane. That just explains why I ran off as soon as I could get you to shut up."

"You got him to _shut up_?" Oghren asked, sounding impressed. "How?"

"I'm lucky like that sometimes," Jowan said. "Balances out the other, more impressive, ways I'm horribly unlucky." I shook my head at that. While I would have once argued it was impossible for someone to _accidentally_ end up a blood mage, Jowan had made me reconsider that opinion.

He opened the door, waving us all inside. We took off our cloaks and stomped the snow from our boots. I could see his wife, Nora, sitting in their front room, a wrapped bundle in her arms. She passed the bundle off to Jowan and stood to embrace me. "About time you came to see us," she admonished me, wagging a finger. "And I hear you're off again in the morning."

I blushed, feeling guilty. I really should have found a way to get here sooner and see the baby, it was less than a day's ride. "Duty calls," I said by way of explanation. "King Behlan expects us in Orzammar in less than a month."

"Maker's breath, Maggie," Jowan said, laughing as he gestured us to sit. "Look at you, associating with royalty." He grinned at that. "I knew once you got out of the tower nothing would be able to stop you."

"Not that they haven't tried," I said, shrugging.

"We heard," Nora said. "You two defeated a group of armed intruders in the palace with your bare hands and no magic?" Wow, usually it took a lot longer for the stories to blow up into impossible legends. Maker's breath, if I could do half the things people attributed to me the darkspawn would have fallen on their own weapons in defeat years ago.

"_One_ intruder," I clarified. "Templar-trained, he drained our magic and I managed to knock him over and hold him with a dagger. I got lucky, I think he was expecting us to just give up without magic."

"Aw," Anders said. "I liked her version better."

"I'm sure you did," I replied. Changing the subject from me I turned to Jowan. "So, tell me about the baby! I don't even know if it's a boy or girl yet!"

"A girl," he said, standing up and carrying the bundle towards me. I tensed, realizing he would expect me to hold it. And not to drop it. "Hold out your arms," Jowan instructed. "Maker's breath, Maggie, she won't bite you, she doesn't even have _teeth _yet." He laughed at my obvious nervousness. "For a fearless Grey Warden you're awfully afraid of a _baby_."

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter if I drop darkspawn," I said, holding out my arms anyways.

Arthur stood up, kneeling near me as Jowan deposited the baby in my arms. "Here," he said, hold your arm like this so her head doesn't flop back." I nodded, doing as he instructed. Arthur glanced down into the blankets. "Wow, she's pretty," he said, before returning to his seat.

I looked down, mind chanting _don't drop don't drop don't drop_. "Hey, she looks like you," I said to Jowan. The baby even had the same pale eyes as he did. I had to admit, the translation of Jowan's features to her, with a slight mixing of his wife's, did lend itself to rather pretty baby.

"Poor thing," he said, grinning. "She's got her mother's hair, though." The baby did indeed have a fine dusting of red hair on her head, although not much of it. I suppose the rest would grow in later.

"Nah, you've always been very pretty for a guy. It works better for her." He made a face at me. "So what's her name?" I asked finally.

Nora stood up and scooped the baby from my arms before Jowan could reply. "I told you already," he said, once he was assured I was no longer in a position where I could drop their firstborn.

"Wait, you were serious?"

"Yes!" he said, laughing. "Maker's breath, you saved my life. More than once, even though it was my own fault each time. It was the least I could do."

"We wouldn't have met if it wasn't for you," Nora added.

"Yeah, I named my little one Margaret, too," Oghren added. "Figure it might be good luck."

"Well, there will be a lot of lucky girls in Ferelden very soon," Jowan said, laughing. "It seems like half the farms in this area either have a little Maggie of their own, or know of one."

"You're kidding me," I said, shaking my head.

"Well, Ferelden needed a new hero to name their daughters after," Nora said. "The only reason I'm a Nora and not a Moira is because they used that one on my older sister!"

"Maker's breath, don't compare me to _her_," I said, waving my hands. Living up to my own legends was tough enough; I didn't even deserve to get mentioned in the same breath as the famous Rebel Queen.

"No worries there," Jowan said. "I'm sure Queen Moira never accidentally burned her own hair off."

"Exactly!" I agreed.

"Or froze herself into her own bed after a nightmare," he went on. "Or set a test on fire when she got upset because she didn't know the answers, or froze a stairwell solid to organize sledding among the apprentices," everyone had begun to laugh at that, even Rose who was eyeing the baby with a sad look on her face up until that point.

"I get the point," I said.

"Or hit her first kiss with lightning because he snuck up on her, or set the First Enchanter's desk on fire while searching for confiscated candy, or started crying because an anonymous tryst in a hallway stood her up, or violated Chantry law." He grinned. "Wait, no, the Chantry was in favor of the occupation. So you do have something in common!"

"Thank you," I told him. "So much. Any other embarrassing stories you want to share?"

He leaned back into his chair. "Hm. The one about when you got caught by half the senior enchanters since you and your latest _friend _had picked the room they planned to use for their meeting? Who was it, again... Thomas? Niall? Kinnon? Padraig? Dermott? I can't even remember, there were so many…"

"Jowan…" I warned.

He giggled. "That was the summer you and Bridget devised that insane competition. I swear, how either of you found time to pass any of your classes I'll never know. How either of you could _walk_ by the end of it I'll never know! And that time I stumbled in on you comparing notes? It left me traumatized for months. There are things a man just shouldn't know about the people who sit next to him in class." He shook his head, grinning and ignoring the daggers I was shooting in his direction. "You know, all those stories of mages, I suspect most can be traced to her."

"Why did I not kill you when we were children?" I asked, almost being drowned out by Oghren and Anders howling with laughter.

"Because you hated getting yelled at by Irving all alone and can't pick locks to save your life." He laughed, "and because no one else would let you cheat off them in healing."

"Hey, you cheated in primal off me," I protested.

"And thank you for that, I was second in the class!"

"You know, Maggie," Rose said, "I think I like you more now knowing you cheated in school. The perfect thing? It was a bit much."

"I'm _far_ from perfect," I said.

"Well, I know that _now_," she said. "How come we never go sledding? It would be easy, we don't even have proper stairs yet."

"Oh yeah," Jowan said. "She didn't warn the templars or post a lookout. We were all at the bottom, laughing like mad, when a few came by hoping to just walk downstairs. They ended up landing in a huge tin can pile at the foot of the stairs, on top of half a dozen very young apprentice mages who all promptly started crying and accidentally setting off spells from the shock."

Anders looked at me. "That was _your fault_? I'd heard about it, we all talked about the idiot children sledding inside for weeks."

"I'm not that much younger than you," I reminded him, finding nothing else to redeem myself I could latch onto in his statement.

"True, but I was almost four and ten at the time. That's a far cry from, what, seven or eight? Particularly a seven or eight year old that sleds indoors."

"I think you've embarrassed Maggie enough for one night, Jowan," Nora said standing. "Dinner should be ready soon."

Jowan's wife proved herself to be better cook than I remembered, and I still had fond memories of her cooking from our last visit. The two of them watched in a mixture of amusement and horror as we tore into our food with vigor.

We would all be sleeping in their large main room, the farmhouse only had one bedroom, and the attic room Jowan was making for when the baby got older wasn't done yet. I tossed on my bedroll, trying to sleep despite the snoring surrounding me. Giving up, I grabbed a pen and ink from my pack as well as some parchment, and tiptoed off to the kitchen, planning to make notes on our plans.

"Can't sleep either?" Jowan asked as I walked in. He was sitting in the dark, holding the baby and a bottle.

"Too much on my mind, I guess," I admitted, sitting across from him. He set the bottle down and raised a hand, quickly lighting the candles on the table.

"I don't envy you," Jowan admitted. "I couldn't do it."

"Yeah you could," I replied. "You don't give yourself enough credit, you never have."

"And you always give me too much credit," he said, smiling. "I wonder why you can still stand the sight of me after everything."

"Oh please, not this again," I muttered. "Can we beat the subject to death any further?"

"Sorry," he said. "I still feel bad for not telling you the truth. I mean, look at what happened."

"What happened? We both got out! It worked perfectly! I think it turned out much better than our usual schemes. Maker's breath, I'm a _Grey Warden_. How _awesome_ is that?"

He shook his head at that, looking at me like I was crazy. "So do they know? I wasn't going to say anything just in case…"

"Anders and Oghren do. The others are new, they don't yet. I haven't quite found a way to tell them. Oghren doesn't care, he's from Orzammar so it's all surface religion and surface magic to him. Anders isn't _thrilled_ with it, but obviously it doesn't bother him _that _much."

"Quite obviously. It's funny how things work out, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I had to agree. "Never would have guessed this when I was back at the tower."

"Well, you seem like you're happy. In that over the top puppy dog kind of way. I'm guessing that doesn't apply to when you're killing disgusting monsters and rushing into danger."

"I am," I said. "Sometimes even when I'm rushing into danger. That can be great fun. I used to wish I could have fought in the rebellion. This is just as good."

"You are insane, you know this right? You always were a bit off, but since you got out it's really only become much worse."

I laughed, making sure to cover my mouth so I wouldn't wake the now sleeping baby. "What will you do?" I asked him suddenly. "I mean, if she ends up…"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "Not sending her to the Circle, that's for sure. They'll take her over my dead body." He gave a sheepish smile. "Which, if I think about it, is likely to be _exactly_ how it would happen."

"Move to Amaranthine," I said suddenly.

"What? No! I'm not going to become a Grey Warden, I told you that. Maker's breath, can you even imagine? I'd faint in battle. You know, I actually _like_ my life. I like being a farmer, strange as it sounds."

"I know you won't become a Warden," I said. "But, if you ever think they're on your trail I would hope you reconsider that. The Chantry can't touch us, the two mages I have besides me were both apostates. You're a good mage, and you could get used to the fighting in no time."

"Then why move? I had enough trouble scraping together the money to buy this land."

"We're putting in our own farm," I explained. "The only time Wardens have ever been defeated it was after they were starved out, that won't happen on my watch."

"How can you afford that? I thought you just had a huge fire."

"Came into some money, Weisshaupt finally remembered the poor Ferelden barbarians." I shrugged. "Just think about it, talk to Nora. If she does end up… like us, well, there will be other mages around, we could help."

"That would make staying anonymous awfully difficult," Jowan said. "And if I get found out then _you_ get found out as well. You're the one who told the Chantry I was already dead."

"I don't think it would matter at the Keep," I said. "Not much, anyways. Our people are loyal. Besides, wouldn't it be nice to live close together?"

"It would," he admitted. "I'll think about it, although we may stay put until she's older. This discussion could be for nothing, there's never been any mages in Nora's family." Changing the subject he asked when I would tell the others about my blood magic.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'll have to, and soon. When we get to Orzammar we're headed for the Deep Roads, things may get rough, I'd rather they not find out because I had to rely on it to pull us out of trouble." I shrugged. "I don't _think_ Rose will mind, she's very practical, and I would be shocked if Roland cared one way or another, he's too busy searching for his one true love by way of every woman in Ferelden. Arthur was very nervous about mages when we met, though. He didn't even like it when Anders had to heal him."

"He seems fine now," Jowan said. "Didn't even flinch about shaking my hand. He even thanked me for putting you up for the night."

"True," I agreed. "I think he's gotten used to us by now."

"The longer you wait the worse it'll be. People don't like having big things kept from them."

"You sound like Anders," I said, grinning.

"I suppose I'll take that as a compliment. He seems to keep you in check, maybe even better than I ever could. Although it is a bit bizarre that he apparently stalked you across Ferelden and ended up in your house the very day you moved in."

"Strange coincidence, isn't it?"

"Coincidence? I say watch out, if you break things off he may end up hanging around outside your windows at all hours and threatening your pets."

I made a face and shook my head at that. "So, fatherhood? What's it like?"

"Scary," he admitted. "I've screwed up almost everything I've touched so far, if I did that to her…" he shook his head. "Also pretty amazing, though. What about you? Any plans?

"Not in the least," I said.

"Better be careful, then," he warned. "Things happen. We hadn't planned on it, to be honest. I was too worried I'd pass my magic along, but when you're with the same person all the time it's easy to get careless." He looked down at the baby and smiled, adding "Not that I'd change anything at this point, I'm only trying to warn you."

"That really isn't a concern for us," I said.

His eyebrow quirked up. "Is that another of those Warden things you can't tell me about?"

"Pretty much," I admitted.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said sympathetically. "Your life just sounds worse and worse. It hardly seems fair, really. I've got everything I could want, and you have to fight darkspawn and Maker knows what else, all because of me."

"I would have ended up a Warden even without helping you," I told him. "Duncan was at the tower to recruit me in the first place, you know I would have jumped at that chance. Don't be sorry, I actually _like_ what I do, and I'm pretty good at it. I mean, the Warden thing, at least. Still a bit shaky on the Commander part, but I'm getting better. Besides, can you actually see me settling down to raise a family, or teaching rooms full of apprentices at the tower?"

Jowan thought for a moment. "No, not in the slightest," he admitted.

We talked for a little while longer before I began to feel tired. Jowan slipped off to put the baby to bed and get some sleep while I returned to my own bedroll and found the snoring was no longer quite as distracting as it had been.

We set out after breakfast and an extended goodbye the next morning, with Jowan promising to think about my offer only if I promised to visit again in the spring.

"So we meet your _very best_ friend in the world," Roland began as we continued on to the castle. "And he makes us sleep on the _floor?_"

"Where else would he have put us?" I asked. "He's an apostate farmer, that's not exactly a life of wealth."

"Pretty baby," Arthur observed. "Nice of him to name it for you, too. How did you end up saving his life, it sounded like there was an interesting story in it."

I shifted on the wagon bench and looked over at Anders. He shrugged. So, figuring it was as good a time as any, and better than springing a big surprise within the deep roads, I told them about how I left the tower.

"You had _no idea_ he was a blood mage?" Arthur asked, clearly shocked.

"Maker's breath, could _you_ have guessed he was a blood mage? He looked like someone who would run away from Anders' cat!"

"Hey!" I said, feeling the need to defend Jowan's honor. He wasn't _that _bad. Well, not usually. Although whenever we got caught breaking into storerooms or the larder he _would_ always hide behind me.

"Sorry, Maggie. He really isn't exactly what I would call intimidating, though."

"Well, why should he be?" I asked. "He's not a _monster_ or something, just a normal person. It's only a set of spells."

"Yeah, but _blood magic_," Arthur said. "That's different."

"I wouldn't have cared even if I knew," I said flatly. "Well, maybe a little, but not for the reason you think."

"Oh, can I guess?" Rose asked. I shrugged and waved her on.

"I'm going to say… you were mad he didn't tell you, since you seem like one of those people who _hates_ being kept out of the loop and adores a good secret." I couldn't help but look impressed. She had me pegged completely. "Oh, looks like I was right," Rose grinned. "Okay, next guess… you forgave him for that whole mess only after he agreed to teach you blood magic, too, since you also seem like you'd take that whole 'grey wardens use any means necessary' thing very literally, and thumbing your nose at the Circle seems to be almost a second career for you."

"That's absurd," Arthur said. "Maggie's no maleficar. I mean, I just met him, so I can believe it. He may have been on his best behavior or something. We _know_ her, though." He looked at me for a moment. When I didn't say anything his eyes widened. "Um, Maggie?"

"Surprise?"

As I predicted, Rose nodded, looking satisfied, Roland snorted a bit with laughter, shaking his head, and Arthur looked like he was seriously contemplating jumping from the wagon. I gave them the usual 'yes I'm a blood mage, no I won't drain your life or control your mind' speech. Arthur seemed slightly reassured.

"Surfacers and your rules," Oghren piped up from the driver's bench with a snort. "You won't be so high and mighty about it when Maggie uses that magic to pull your ass from the fire."

"As much as it pains me to agree with the dwarf," Anders added, "and as much as I hate blood magic, he is right. I've only seen her ever use it when we were in pretty rough shape."

"So how do you know she's not controlling your mind now?" Arthur asked. "How do you know your whole relationship hasn't been mind control."

"Ew," I muttered without thinking. "That's, um, that's a pretty gross thought, Arthur. I mean, wow…." I shook my head, trying to get the idea out and failing. Did he have any idea what he was really implying? "That's _really_ disgusting, in fact. And even putting the nausea-inducing implications of that aside, am I honestly so hideous I'd need to go that far to get a man in my bed?"

Even Anders seemed a bit put off by the implication. "Really? Do you have any idea _how long_ I had to chase her? Mind control? I _wish_ it had been that simple!"

Arthur did look properly abashed. Since honestly, accusing me of using mind control to basically force myself on someone was fairly low, and extraordinarily disgusting by any standards of behavior. Even Roland and Rose had turned to stare at him in open mouthed shock. I suspect he didn't fully realize the implications of what he said before the words were out.

"I know it's a lot to take in at once," I admitted, trying to drop the whole line of discussion, hopefully forever. "And for _that_ I am sorry. I can't apologize for doing my job, though. We'll be in the Deep Roads when we get to Orzammar, and I'd like to try and make it all the way to the Dead Trenches. Things could get pretty ugly there, I'd rather you know now than find out in the middle of battle."

"All right," he said after a moment. "I can't pretend I'm thrilled or not worried, but I'll try and just, I don't know, not think about it. Mostly because I'm a little nervous to find out _you _would expect to say something might get pretty ugly."

"Yeah," Roland said. "Any chance you can, um, elaborate on that?"

"I don't know _what_ we'll find, to be honest. But it wasn't easy the first time I passed through there, and that was even with most of the darkspawn on the surface for the blight."

"So why are we going?" Rose asked.

"It's our job," I said simply. "The talking darkspawn? We need to make sure they haven't spread. We need to make sure the Legion of the Dead outpost in that area knows about them so if they _do_ show up later they can get word to us."

"And if they _have_ spread?"

"I honestly don't know, then." I suppose that was something I'd have to plan for. It wasn't that I hadn't thought so far in advance, I had, several times. I just didn't have the slightest idea what we could do if the worst case scenario came true. "I'm hoping they haven't, and what we saw in Amaranthine was isolated. If they have, well, we deal with the problem as best we can. I brought the supplies for the Joining with me since we'll have recruits with us, if they fall to the corruption I can perform the ceremony right away, before it's too late."

"Lucky them," Roland said. "Trial by fire."

* * *

_A/N : The mythical birth control Maggie and Jowan's conversation seems to refer to? NO clue what it would be. But, a conversation with Wynne in-game does imply something exists, even if only for mages. So I'm assuming it would be common knowledge, at least among anyone from the Circle._


	17. Darkspawn hidden in your pocket

We made camp at the base of a large hill that night which had been shielded from the snow so far. Shivering, the six of us crowded around the fire.

"Sodding surface weather," Oghren griped, taking another pull from his flask. "Lucky if we don't freeze to death by morning."

"It's Maggie's fault," Rose said, plucking at her lute. "She admitted it. I say she sleeps in the snow."

"Come on," I protested, "even up here winter is a good six months of the year. We can't just sit at home half the time because it's cold out. We're supposed to be tough darkspawn fighters, not a bunch of delicate scholars. We'll be at the castle by tomorrow."

"I can keep you warm, Rose," Roland said, grinning.

"Yeah, no," she replied quickly. "I'm quite sure I'll survive."

"You wound me, my lady," he said dramatically. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well, if you insist on refusing me at least play something good. Perhaps I can win your heart with song."

"Maker save us all," Arthur deadpanned.

Rose laughed and launched into a song I didn't recognize.

"I don't know that one," Roland complained.

"That was 'Arl Brand," she said, even as she switched to another more common one. She stopped after a moment. "Are you telling me you don't know 'Lord Randal'? Seriously? I learned it when I was eight!"

"Just play 'Greensleeves'," Arthur said with a sigh. "Otherwise we'll be here all night."

"You're kidding me, right?" Rose asked. "You _only_ know 'Greensleeves'?"

"No, I don't _only_ know 'Greensleeves'," Roland said defensively. "I just don't know those two. Come on, play something else."

"Do you know 'Tam Lin'?" Rose asked. "Since if you don't I'm going to start seriously questioning this whole Roland the Troubadour thing you're going for."

"I thought troubadours wrote their own songs," Anders said. "So wouldn't it be Roland the Minstrel, really?"

"Yes I know Tam Lin," he said to Rose. "And you… shut up!" he said to Anders. "Minstrels are jerks."

"I've explained this to him as well," Arthur said, grinning. Well, at least Roland was actually a good singer. Remarkably good, to be honest, even though I'd always found that particular song to be a bit creepy. It was supposed to be a love song, I guess, but the whole 'pregnant for no rational reason so you have to marry a stranger who may or may not be a semi-evil enchanted being' theme never sat well with me.

Eventually everyone headed off to bed, armed with small jars of ice salve and warnings from Anders to cover themselves with it before falling asleep. I ended up on watch with Oghren since I was the only person guaranteed to keep him from passing out drunk. He sat by the fire quietly, scribbling at something on a sheet of parchment, before passing it off to me. Apparently meeting Jowan's daughter had inspired him, though. He had a letter to his own daughter for me to proofread. Oghren had issues with making sure his letters didn't stray into topics not suited for small children.

I handed it back after scanning it quickly. "Looks good. Nothing spelled wrong, you didn't mention alcohol, killing, or sex. A success all around."

"Thanks, Mags," he said, tucking it away in his pack.

"We can post it tomorrow. I'll have one for Nathaniel, too."

"It's good you told them today," Oghren said, sitting by the fire. "Better they know now than when we're hacking into some broodmother." I nodded in agreement.

"So do we think Arthur will kill me in my sleep?"

"Not if he likes his guts on the inside of his skin," Oghren replied. "I don't think he knows how close he came to Anders blasting him right out of the wagon today. Everyone knows how twitchy he gets when it comes to you."

I made a face. "Yeah. I'm hoping he didn't realize exactly what he was saying."

"I think we were all hoping that. It's what kept him breathing today."

"We don't have so many wardens that we can start killing them off for insulting me," I reminded him. "It's not even the worst thing I've heard this _year_." I shrugged. "He's a good guy usually, I'm willing to drop it."

Oghren shrugged, poking at the fire. "Your friend, he looked good. Not being tortured in prison works for him."

I snickered at that. "Yeah, it seems to. Can't believe he went and had a kid, though."

"Not exactly planned out, I take it?"

"_Nothing_ he has ever done was planned out in advance. I swear, if I had a sovereign for every time he said 'I didn't mean for that to happen,' I'd have, well, not as much money as we _do_ have, but still quite a bit."

"Seems happy about it, though. So that's how you surfacers look when you're new."

"Don't you dare, you won't convince me dwarves hatch from rocks. I've heard that one already."

"Sigrun warned you, did she?"

"Oh yeah." I laughed. I wouldn't have believed him anyways, even if she hadn't warned me. Well, I hope I wouldn't have.

"We need to teach them some good songs," Oghren muttered suddenly. "None of this weepy love garbage. Real music."

"Drinking songs, then?"

"Aye," he nodded, smiling at that. We'd spent several weeks teaching Leliana every tavern song we knew. "That or some of them that arse Loghain knew. Still don't know why you put up with him, but he knew some fun tunes."

"You mean the war songs?"

"Yeah. Proper music, about battle and rushing off to die. Nice stuff." That would, perhaps, be my greatest abuse of authority to date. I'd actually ordered Loghain to teach me all the songs he knew from the rebellion. I think he was more amused than annoyed at it, but the man was never easy to read. His small smile might have been at the thought of how it would look when he cut my head off the entire time. I it remained the one time Wynne said more than five words to him without mentioning Ostagar or King Cailin, when she asked if he knew a particular tune she remembered.

Eventually Arthur stumbled out of his tent, wrapped tightly in his cloak. Anders followed not long after, pulling me into a quick embrace before promising not to wake me when his watch ended. I wished everyone a good night and, although they replied in kind, I noticed Arthur wouldn't meet my eyes.

The following morning I got up early, too cold to be truly comfortable. Hopefully we would find an Inn between Highever and West Hill. As we packed camp I checked the maps again with Roland. I still wasn't good with them, but Nathaniel had been working with me on it, and I felt like I should at least make an effort to know where we were going. Thankfully there was one major road through Highever and we would be sticking on it. I made a quick breakfast for everyone while Anders took down our tent and everyone loaded the wagon.

Highever Castle appeared on the horizon not long after we started off from our lunch break. A guard stopped us on the road as we neared. "Halt!" he called, "Who approaches Highever Castle?"

"Grey Wardens," I replied, standing up in the wagon. "Teyrn Cousland is expecting us." I guess Fergus had become a little paranoid since Arl Howe attacked his family. Not that I could blame him.

"Grey Wardens?" the guard said, sounding doubtful. "Prove it." We glanced at each other and snorted with laughter for a moment, unable to help ourselves. Everything from our cloaks to our armor to our weapons themselves was plastered with the griffin heraldry.

"And how exactly do you expect me to do that?" I asked, sounding as annoyed as I felt. "Do you have a darkspawn hidden in your pocket we can kill?" I was reminded of Carroll, one of the templars who said something very close to that when I had to get into Circle tower during the blight. But where Carroll was just unlucky enough to be dumber than a box of dirt, this guard seemed to be young and thrilled with throwing his power around.

"Well, that's not my problem," he said rudely. "How do I know you're really Grey Wardens."

"We don't have time for this," Oghren grunted.

"I agree," Roland said. "I say we just conscript the ass and be done with it, Commander." I could hear the barely restrained laughter in his voice.

"True," I said, quickly understanding his plan. "He does look healthy enough. All right, Anders, put a freeze spell on him. Arthur and Roland, drag him in the wagon and tie him up until the Joining." The two warriors stood, preparing to jump down from the back of the wagon, grinning. "Oghren and Rose, make sure he doesn't try to run before the ceremony. I'll leave the method up to you." Oghren stood, cracking his knuckles, while rose unsheathed her daggers, spinning them deftly with a wicked smile on her face. "We can certainly use an extra sword when we go against the darkspawn legions in the Deep Roads next month."

That did the trick. The guard paled, backing away from us. "You know," he said, "I think I do recognize you."

Anders smiled, standing up on the drivers bench and removing his staff from his back. He raised one hand in the air dramatically, sending the guard jumping back.

"Why don't you folks go on ahead? I'm sure the Teyrn is anxious to see you. I'll just stay over here. Out of your way," he continued to back up as he spoke, eventually tripping and landing on his backside in the dirt.

"Fine," I muttered. "Stand down, Wardens. We have no use for cowards."

"As you wish, Commander," Anders said, smirking as he took his seat. With a flick of the reigns we were off once more.

"Nice idea," I said to Roland as soon as we had all stopped our uncontrollable laughter.

"I thought you might enjoy that," he admitted.

"He would have made a _fantastic_ templar," Anders said, chuckling.

"I was thinking the very same thing," I agreed.

Fergus received us warmly in his main hall. I apologized for having a bit of fun with his guard on the way in, but he only howled with laughter when we told him the story. "Maker's breath," he finally said, regaining control. "The man _knew_ you would arrive today. I even made sure the guards all had recent pictures of you so they would be able to greet you with the respect deserved." He shook his head. "My father often said you should never give power to anyone who seems to crave it; I suppose this is my lesson."

He had servants show us to our rooms and see to our horses while we settled in for the evening. Once that was done I met with him in his office. "I know why you're here," he said. I nodded, realizing he had more to say. "I wish I could help, but we can't spare a single person right now."

"Not even one?" I asked, deflating. I could conscript, sure, but the blight was over, and forcing that on him wouldn't endear us to our closest neighbor. Fergus had always been an ally of the Wardens, I didn't want to risk that.

"Not really," he admitted. "We're still not up to the guard staff the castle had before Howe's attack, and we have very few knights and most are still green." He shrugged, looking frustrated. "You met the guard on the road, these are the fools I'm forced to deal with. My father had built up a phenomenal force, the few Howe didn't wipe out were killed at Ostagar. It could be years before I have even a shadow of his."

"Fair enough," I agreed. "I won't say I'm thrilled, but I understand your position. I'm not going to push the issue, your friendship means too much to the Wardens for that."

"I appreciate that," Fergus told me, relaxing.

"If you do have anyone who should express an interest in joining our cause, though…" I said.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "Normally I'd let you have your pick of my best, even as we are now. I know your order is important, the Couslands have always been great supporters of the Wardens. I just have to be more mindful of security than ever. My sister may become a target since her engagement to His Majesty was announced. When she's here I have to contend with keeping Elissa safe."

"I can't fault you for being cautious," I agreed. "Not after what your family has already been through."

"Thank you," he said. "I have posted notifications of your arrival in the city, though. If you're willing to take people with… less formal training you may have better luck there."

I reassured him that would be fine. The next morning just after breakfast we headed into town. Oghren, Anders, and Rose set up in the large back room of a tavern while the rest of us scouted the streets, making our presence known. As I hoped, Arthur and Roland looking fresh-faced and cheerful in their shining Warden plate attracted a fair bit of attention. Then again, so did I among those who recognized me. I'd worried we would have to shout like some sort of crazed street performer, but people approached us as we wandered through their market district. Good thing, too, as I hadn't the slightest idea what we would yell. Simply bellowing about joining the Wardens seemed a bit bizarre, like I was trying to sell produce. We were able to gently send the admirers on their way and direct more than a dozen back to the tavern where the others could put them through their paces.

Returning to the tavern for lunch I saw six new faces, four women and two men, sitting along a wall looking excited. The three of them stepped into the hall, gesturing for us to follow, so we could all speak without being overheard.

"Had to send a few back," Oghren said.

"So it seems," I replied. "What happened?"

"One cried when he realized he'd have to try fighting a mage," Anders said, shaking his head in wonder. "_Literally _cried. I couldn't believe it. Another didn't like the idea of fighting Oghren and Rose at once, even with the practice weapons. I mean, it wasn't even to see if he could _win,_ just that he'd be willing to try it."

"What, did they think the darkspawn followed court tournament rules?" Roland asked, looking surprised. I hid my smile… his reaction to our foray into the deep roads hadn't been much different. But then, he didn't refuse to try.

"Two of them wouldn't 'disgrace' themselves by fighting with an elf," Rose added, snorting. "So we sent them packing, too."

I nodded, agreeing with all their decisions so far.

"The rest," Oghren said, shrugging. "No good. Lousy fighters. We'd have as much luck grabbing random folk from the street as we would with them. All glory this and honor that, but they couldn't tell which end of the sword went in their hand and which end in a darkspawn's arse." I couldn't argue too much with that, either. While I'd never demand everyone have a lifetime of skills built up before we considered them, a basic degree of competency was required.

"One, well, we haven't sent him off yet, but I think we _should," _Anders said.

"Why?"

"We wanted to see what you thought," Rose said. "He's _very_ good, but there's a complication." I waited for her to explain. "He's a father," she finally said.

I made a face. "Well… I mean, I'd rather not have people with so many other demands on them, but if he's good, I don't see any reason not to take him. He must have some idea of the risks."

"He doesn't seem to," Anders supplied. "Figures it's no more dangerous than being a guard or a knight, best I can tell. And, there's more. He's a father, and his wife died in childbirth."

Ah… there was the complication. "We can't take someone like that," Arthur spoke up. "Can we?"

I quickly agreed. "No, I don't think so. I mean, even leaving aside the question of who would care for the child when we're off working, I don't…" I shook my head. "No, we can't orphan a child. If there was another parent I would take him, although I wouldn't be thrilled about that." That would be another of those things we needed to prepare for, I suppose. It wasn't exactly feasible to assume our Wardens would always be childless. While taking a single parent still seemed unconscionable, I suppose a day would come when someone's spouse died after they joined us. Or one of us managed to either get pregnant or get someone else pregnant. Would it fall to us to care for the child if the Warden fell in battle? It seemed to be the proper thing to do. I wouldn't have the first idea how to do that, though. I suppose it would involve hiring people.

"I'm going to write to Orlais when we get home. Maybe the Free Marshes as well, see what they do about children. There may be some formal policy I'm not aware of." No one seemed inclined to argue with this, although I did notice a few small facial tics at the mention of Orlais. Better than it had been, though. "Today, though… No. The blight is over, and we have more stops to make. We're not that desperate. I'll talk to him and send him off, if you want."

"We've left him with the others, they started talking about rumors and horror stories as soon as we told them to sit. Maybe some of it sunk in?" Rose shrugged.

"Let's hope," I agreed. "Well, send him out here, I guess. I'd rather not say anything in front of all the recruits."

Everyone agreed and headed back in, Arthur casting me a grateful look as he walked in. Anders went off in the other direction to arrange for lunch, squeezing my shoulder as he passed. "Drop some hints," he whispered. "You don't have to tell him everything, but a good hint should do it." I nodded, brushing my fingers against his hand. He kissed the side of my neck quickly and departed, just in time for the door to open.

"Commander?" a man asked, giving me a dubious look. I noticed he was a few years older than me, almost too old to be considered.

"That's me," I said. "What's your name?"

"Patrick, Ser. Sorry, I guess I just figured you'd be… taller." He blushed saying that, so I couldn't really find myself offended. "They said you wanted to speak with me?"

"Please, don't call me Ser, Wardens can't hold titles." I bit my lip, not sure how to say this without being offensive. "So, they tell me you have a child?" I finally asked. "You're the, um… _only_ parent of a child?"

"That's why I'm here," he said. "I thought, well, what better way to set a good example for my boy?"

It was a good reason for any order but ours, I suppose. "There are… risks involved with joining the Wardens. I'm not entirely comfortable putting someone with a child depending on them through the process." _Risks_, yeah, that might work.

"Some of the others," he said, "they were saying half the people who leave to join aren't seen again. That's not _true_, is it?"

"I'm not allowed to reveal Warden secrets," I said, hoping he would get the hint. He did.

"I… see," he said, paling slightly. "I'm wondering if this might not be for me."

"Thank you," I said, grateful I wouldn't have to go any further.

"No," he said, "I should thank you." He left the tavern at that, looking relieved. Anders returned a moment later, passing him.

"That was the daddy?"

"It was," I agreed. "He asked if it was true half the people who tried to join were never seen again. I just pulled the 'warden secrets' line."

"Ah, nothing more ominous than the dreaded warden secrets." He chuckled at that. We went back in, Arthur and Rose looking relieved to see Patrick had taken his chance to run.

"What's next?" Roland asked.

"Alienage after lunch," I said. "Rose, if you could come with me I'd appreciate it." Humans walking into alienages were often met with hostility. Having an elf with me would soften our reception.

"Good call," she agreed. "Anyone else?"

"I'd like to go," Arthur said. "I've never seen an alienage. I'm curious."

"You're not missing much," Roland snorted. I shot him a dirty look and he shut his mouth hard enough I could hear his teeth click.

"No, he's right," Rose laughed.

"Well, I'm still curious," Arthur said. "Come on, I've never been anywhere but the palace district of Denerim or my family's freehold until now."

"Fine by me," I agreed. We finished our meal and headed out.

We were getting strange glances within moments of entering. When it became clear no one would say anything to us Rose walked over to a middle aged man. "We need to speak to the hahren," she told him. He told us to follow him, leaving us on the doorstep of a small house.

"Don't _gawk_," I whispered to Arthur. "You look like you've never seen an elf before."

"Sorry," he replied. "It's just so… poor. I heard, but didn't realize how bad it was."

"This is actually better than Denerim used to be," I told him. He just looked shocked, shaking his head in response.

A white-haired woman opened the door at our knock. "Ah," she said after looking us over. "The Grey Wardens? I'd heard you were in town."

"We're looking for new recruits," I explained.

"The Wardens are _always_ looking for recruits," she laughed. "I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten us here. Taking after your predecessor already, it seems."

_Of course_, I reminded myself. _She would have known Duncan_. "I don't know if I can live up to him, but I try," I admitted.

"Don't sell yourself short," she admonished me. "Duncan was a fine man, but he never killed an archdemon." I managed to keep my face composed. Compared to hand-selecting people who I might be sending to their deaths, with the future of the order hanging around my neck, killing the archdemon was _easy_. And killing the archdemon was definitely anything but easy.

She waved us in, scribbling a quick note as we sat down. "Go get them," she said, passing it to a younger man who promptly exited she joined us. "My nephew," she explained. "When I saw you'd be arriving I tried to figure out who might be a good fit, he's off to track them down."

That was more help than I could have imagined. "Thank you," I told her gratefully.

"Yes, well, don't thank me just yet. I don't _like_ sending people to the Wardens. It takes from the community. But, these are some folks who I don't expect to add much to begin with." I waited for her to go on, not finding myself particularly comforted with that explanation. "Nothing _too_ bad, mind you. A couple lads who spend too much time fighting and picking pockets than trying to settle into a decent job, a few girls who've made it very clear they won't be putting their blades away to have families. Things like that." I relaxed, realizing she wasn't trying to dump her local maniacs off on us.

"Sounds like me," Rose admitted, smiling. I cast her a sideways glance. She colored and shrugged, but didn't elaborate. I hadn't expected that given her reaction to not having children.

"What's this about, hahren?" a dour voice called from the door. "I didn't do anything!"

"Not today you didn't," she said sharply. A young man with dark brown hair walked in, eyes widening as he saw us.

"Wait, you're—"

He was cut off by another arrival. "Oh _no_," a young woman in leather armor said. "I don't care how desperate you are to marry me off, not _him_. Maker's breath, hahren, are you insane?"

I suppose her nephew hadn't bothered to tell anyone _why_ they were being sent for.

"Don't flatter yourself, Caitlin," he replied, snarling.

"I see my nephew left a few details out," the elder sighed. "I'm just going to catch them outside so everyone doesn't rush in to make fools of themselves." She cast a withering glance at the new arrivals before walking to the porch, leaving us alone. They were both staring, open mouth, at us. Rose shifted uncomfortably next to me. I could hear Arthur's armor clink together as he did the same.

"Hello," I said, trying to pretend they weren't looking at us like we were about to disappear in front of them. They didn't reply, continuing the stare. Thankfully this uncomfortable moment was broken up by three more people entering the room, two women and a man, who promptly assumed the same position as the others.

"Well then," I said, deciding I would just pretend everyone was interacting with us normally. "As I'm sure you've guessed, we're Grey Wardens, and we came here looking for recruits." If anything, a few jaws dropped a fraction lower. "Right," I went on. "Is this something any of you would be interested in?" I waited a moment for something to happen. No reaction. "Um, would any of you _want _to be Wardens?"

Finally someone moved. I all but sighed with relief. I had been starting to worry I accidentally cast a paralyze spell. "You're telling us we're going to be Wardens."

"No," I explained. "_If_ you are interested we're giving you the chance to try. Some of our brothers are at the tavern's back room right now sparring with everyone."

"I… I don't really think that's for me," one woman spoke up, looking queasy.

"That's fine," I said. "I'm not here to conscript anyone. We're only letting you know it's an option." She nodded and darted out the door quickly.

"So, the blight's over," a man said. I nodded. "What do you _do_ all day? Don't you just sit around between blights?"

I shook my head. Arthur snorted next to me. "The darkspawn don't spring into existence at the beginning of every blight," I said. "We fought a group just a few weeks ago, and we're headed to the Deep Roads very soon to do some investigation and cull their numbers a bit."

"You _look_ for them between blights?" he replied, shocked.

"Fighting darkspawn is our job," I reminded him. Did they really think we just lounged in the Keep, eating chocolates, waiting for the next blight to begin? That would get old fast.

"Yeah… no thanks," he said, marching out the door.

"So you allow elves?" one woman asked, sounding defensive.

"No," Rose answered, grinning. "I'm just a very tall dwarf. With an ear condition."

The questioner looked blankly at her for a moment before blushing. "Sorry, dumb question, I guess," she admitted.

"So, are you three interested?"

"If it would get me out of here I might even join up with the darkspawn," the first woman who arrived said. I could see the elder put her hand to her head at that. The other two agreed and I directed them to the inn. They exchanged glances.

"Well, about that," one began, blushing.

"We can't carry weapons outside the alienage," another finished, looking more angry than embarrassed.

I couldn't help but make a face. "Maker's breath, I'm writing to Fergus about that," I muttered more to myself than anyone else. "Well, that's fine. We'll walk back with you, no one will say a word. And if they do, well, that could be some fun." I pretended not to notice Arthur coughing back laughter at that.

* * *

_A/N: I hate when I can't find a good place to break. Not happy with where this ended, but it would have gone on another two pages otherwise. Is there anything more relaxing than the first few days after the semester ends? What a relief! Now I can write about imaginary monsters, magic, and so on instead of Shakespeare and Austen without guilt. _

_Thanks so much to everyone who writes me and reviewers! It's so great to know someone's actually reading this.  
_


	18. I'm never leaving this room

Back at the inn I stood to the side, watching the new recruits spar, first with each other, and then with the Wardens. They were intimidated enough by the rest of our group, I didn't think asking them to face me would be a good way to judge their skills fairly. A guard had started to approach us as we crossed the market district, but seeing the heraldry on the cloaks Rose and I wore over our armor he backed off without a word.

Once Rose had gone against each of them I called her over. "Thoughts?"

"You're asking me?" she said, surprised.

"Why wouldn't I? You're a rogue, so are they, and I know you're a good fighter. You're the best person to ask." I'd already formed my opinions, but I wanted to see if hers matched. Rose was practical and spoke her mind, and I remember she acted as the spokeswoman for her group of recruits when we met. I hoped, with time, I could count on her to lead teams on investigative or recruitment missions.

She seemed pleased by my response. "He's good," she said, pointing to the man currently doing an impressive job of avoiding Anders' lightning attacks and hexes. "And she's not bad, either." Rose pointed to the woman who had just tapped Roland on the back with the pommel of her daggers before spinning to duck Arthur's shield. "Not as good as him, but I think she could get a lot better quickly with practice."

"Not her?" I asked, pointing to a woman who Oghren tapped out.

"She hasn't managed to get a strike in on anyone yet," Rose said. I nodded in agreement. While I wouldn't expect someone to get the best of a seasoned warrior like Oghren, she had been bested by Anders, Rose, and Roland as well. Not only bested, but utterly trounced. "She fights like she's scared. If she's scared of _us_ how will she react to a real fight? She should be doing her very best now, trying to impress us." I was in complete agreement, and told her as much. Oghren met my eyes briefly and I gave a small shake of my head. He nodded and said something to the woman, shaking her hand and patting her on the shoulder. She nodded and left the room, head down.

That left us with seven. Not bad for our first stop. I invited all the recruits to join us for dinner. That was going to be their second test. We had decided that the night before that simply telling someone 'hey, the job is dangerous,' doesn't often get through. Hearing the six of us detail our battle plan for the deep roads would, though.

"I got a new toy," I announced to everyone as we waited for the food to arrive. They looked over and I unshouldered the staff I bought that morning in the Highever market. It was made from a golden metal, the top an elaborate vine-like pattern circling a blue globe. "Look," I said, as the room filled with light from the globe.

Anders gave me a jealous glance. "Where's mine?" he asked.

"In our room," I answered, smiling. "Yours is gold, not blue. I thought you would prefer that." He grinned.

"That's going to come in handy," Oghren observed. "Better than carrying a couple dozen torches underground."

"That was my thought. Remember when we ran out? Had to find our way to Carridan's Cross by me and Morrigan shooting off fireballs every few yards?"

"I thought Leliana was going to cry. Kept chanting those prayers of hers."

"Her?" I exclaimed. "I thought I was going to cry when Alistair started yelling at me."

"What did you _do_?" Rose asked. "The king doesn't seem to be the yelling type."

"Well, it was dark. I mean, you've been in the deep roads, you know how dark it is," they all nodded, the recruits watched us expectantly. "So, I was running my hand along the wall to find my way."

"You _touched_ the walls?" Roland exclaimed. "Right on all that the corruption and filth? I don't think there's enough soap in the _world_ to get me to do that."

"Hey," I protested, "what choice did I have? I was wandering blindly. I couldn't even see a foot in front of me." I shrugged. "Anyways, new toys, that won't happen again. Plus, it'll stay lit while I use the staff to attack, so we won't have to fight in the dark, either."

"You spoil us, Commander," Arthur said, smiling. I wondered if Anders had said something to him on watch last night, he was being much friendlier today. If he did I hope it was of the reassuring him I wasn't dangerous variety of speech, and not the threatening him variety.

"Well, we still bring some torches," I said. "I don't want Anders or I getting lyrium addled trying to keep up with lighting the way and doing our jobs. This should help a lot, though."

"So, who are we going to be fighting?" one of the recruits asked finally.

"Darkspawn," Oghren said. "Taking it to their front door for once."

"They live in the Deep Roads below Orzammar between blights. That's where we're headed after West Hill," I explained. They nodded, a few looking pleased, and a few looking horrified.

"You know what I'd _love_?" I asked. "I wish we could find the Old Gods ourselves, right now. Just kill them underground before they can even _start_ a blight."

Anders snorted with laughter. "Right. You know we'd be hip deep in our own guts and every darkspawn for miles if we even managed to find one. And then they'd just start the blight right away the second we were dead since we did all the searching for them."

"I know," I agreed. "Still, imagine how great that would be." I sighed. "Oh well, I can't get everything I want, I suppose."

"We should try and take out some of the broodmothers while we're down there," Anders pointed out. "That could set them back a bit."

Oghren snorted. "You expect me to believe you came up with that on your own?" he said accusingly.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Anders replied.

"We should," I agreed. I hated the idea of seeking those things out, but it would be a huge blow to the darkspawn if we eliminated a few of them. I was glad to have already explained what they were to the new Wardens. "Primary goal is still to investigate the talking darkspawn and find the Legion, though," I added.

"What's a broodmother?" one of the men from the morning group asked.

"Well," I said, wincing, "you know how people who get the darkspawn disease turn into ghouls, and have to be killed?" He nodded. "Well, that's just _men_. Women who are corrupted can turn into broodmothers. They're like…"

"Like a regular mother but horrible in every way imaginable. And their children are darkspawn," Anders supplied.

"Basically," I agreed. "That's why darkspawn try to capture women. That's why our rule for the Deep Roads is that no woman is taken alive. I'd rather die from a Warden arrow than go through that." Rose nodded in agreement. She hadn't seen one yet, but just being told was enough to convince her.

"Aren't Wardens immune to the darkspawn, though?" someone asked.

"We are," I agreed. "But I don't know what they do to women to change them; I don't even think I _want_ to know. And I certainly don't want them to try whatever it is on me, even if it won't work." I had a few ideas for what might happen, but I couldn't really think about it too long without feeling sick.

We talked a little while longer, about more mundane things, before the meal broke up. I told everyone that, if they were still sure about joining, they should meet us back first thing the next day.

"You said we're going to West Hill," one of the men asked before leaving. I think he was another Patrick. Or maybe a Padraig. I'd remember if he came back tomorrow, until then I wouldn't worry. I nodded. "I don't know if you should bother," he said.

"Why not?" Was there some animosity between Highever and West Hill I didn't know of?

"It's a ghost town," he explained. "I went not long ago, the city's still all but deserted from the blight." I'd heard they were hit hard, but to still be deserted two years on? It sounded worse than I expected.

"Thank you for letting me know," I told him. "It's on our way, though. Even if we don't find recruits at least we can stay indoors a night before going on to Orzammar." He nodded and left.

"Thoughts?" I asked when the recruits had left.

"Not bad," Roland said. "I feel guilty, though."

"Me too," Rose agreed. "I don't like that we can't tell them everything."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Well, as soon as I figure out a way to deal with that I'll let you all know. Haven't been able to so far"

"Now you know what we were going through with all of you," Anders added.

"Well," Oghren said, "we can't go letting all our sodding _feelings_ and so on get in the way. Ain't like we've got any kind of choice here. Wardens are needed. Get all weepy on your own if you have to. Me, I'll drink."

"That sounds like a very good idea," Arthur said. I nodded in agreement.

"Stand aside, kids," Oghren said, standing up. "Best leave this to an expert." He disappeared briefly, returning with several waitresses following him. "Pay them, boss," Oghren said as they sat three heavily laden trays of alcohol down. I'd have to remember this next time Oghren tried to do the ordering for us.

I did remember handing several coins to the women, and starting to drink. I also remembered, with far less detail, eventually leading everyone in an extremely loud rendition 'A Lusty Young Smith' that may have ended with the tavern owner asking us to keep it down. I know at some point I had a long discussion with Arthur about something we both thought was very important at the time, although I couldn't recall the topic no matter how hard I tried. I also recalled seeing Anders and Oghren performing a dwarven folk dance just over his shoulder which seemed to involve a lot of arm waving, and it seemed perfectly normal and not at all insane at the moment. I also had brief flashes of hugging Rose at one point while we both sobbed hysterically. I had no memory whatsoever of making it up to our room, but I assumed that must have happened since I woke up with bite marks and bruises on my skin in places that simply wouldn't have been accessible while I was still in my armor. At least, I was going to hope I acquired those after returning to our room.

"Andraste's tits," Anders muttered next to me. If I was at all capable of opening my mouth without fear of getting sick on the floor I would have said the same thing. I could feel magic emanating from him before he shifted to face me, holding a hand to my head.

I groaned with relief as the spell worked on me, sitting up. "What happened last night?" I asked him.

"I think Oghren taught me how to dance?" he said.

"No, I remember that. Yes." I nodded. "It was while I was talking to Arthur about… something."

"Blood magic," Anders supplied. Oh, of course. What better time to discuss that than while completely drunk. "I _think_ you've basically convinced him of your interpretation of the Chant." Well that's surprising. Maybe I should drink more before debating in the future. "You sang, too," he added. "Where did you learn that song? It was filthy!"

"Jowan," I supplied. "He wouldn't have sung it aloud if someone forced him at knifepoint, but he pointed it out to me in a book." I paused, trying to remember more. "Was I _crying_? In front of everyone?"

"Maker's breath," Anders groaned. "It was horrible. Rose started and then you joined in. Both sobbing about how you'd never have babies."

"_What?"_ I started coughing. "I don't even _want_ children! Why would I do that?"

"I have _no idea_," Anders answered. "But it was horrifying. None of us knew what to do so we just ordered more to drink and bet on who would stop first."

"That's very kind of you," I said dryly.

"Hey, I tried to comfort you and you just hit me with lightning. Said it was just as much my fault."

"Please tell me you're making that up."

He only laughed at that, leaning to one side so I could see the burn mark on his shoulder. "Sorry, Mags, all true. If what you did later didn't completely destroy my robes that would have done it."

"What did I do later?" I asked, not sure if I wanted the answer. "And how is it _you_ can remember?"

"I cast a rejuvenation spell on myself when you hit the maudlin stage of drunk. Figured one of us should remain at least a bit sober. Or not _falling over_ drunk."

"I'm never leaving this room," I announced. "I can't face them again."

"You don't even know the best part yet!"

I turned to Anders, he was grinning broadly. _Cat that ate the pigeon_, I thought looking at him. "Just tell me," I said, resigned. Not knowing wouldn't make things any better.

"Well, I eventually had to carry you up here. Not because you couldn't walk, but because you climbed onto my lap, started doing very interesting things to my neck involving your mouth _and_ lightning spells, and then refused to move or stop. Once you started slurring about how much you loved me and how you didn't care that we'd never have children I figured it would just be easier to leave you to it and bring you upstairs."

I fell to my back, pulling the blankets over my head. "Never. Leaving. This. Room."

He quickly joined me under the blankets. "That was when you ruined my best robes," Anders announced, beaming. "Ripped them right off me. Buttons flew everywhere. It was _fantastic_! I think the memories of that alone will keep me warm the rest of this trip."

"Please kill me," I said. "I can't face them again."

"Not a chance," Anders said. "Besides, I think the recruits should be here soon, if they're not already."

As if on cue Oghren pounded on our door. "Move it, sparkle-fingers!" he bellowed.

We dressed and packed quickly, with me scurrying around on my hands and knees trying to recover the buttons from Anders' robe so it could be repaired, all the while trying to ignore the comments Anders was making about the position I was in.

I bumped into Arthur as I stepped out of the room and flushed. "Look, I was really out of line last night," I began. He waved his hands and shushed me.

"I don't even _remember_ last night," he whispered. "And I have _no idea_ who I woke up next to. Except that they're absolutely _crazy_. I'm checking in with my commander now, and totally not sneaking out in the hopes of never seeing him again." Anders reached over my head to cast a healing spell on Arthur, earning a grateful look in the process. The three of us slipped down the hall quietly so as not to alert whoever Arthur was avoiding.

A door swung out, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Oh, sorry!" a familiar voice exclaimed. I glanced around the doorframe to see Rose. Her eyes widened. The color drained from her face and didn't return until a moment later when she passed right through normal and into alarmingly red as Roland walked up behind her. His jaw dropped and they both began to stumble over their excuses.

"Look, I know this seems bad, but, um, something was wrong with my room," Roland offered.

"We were drunk," Rose said at the same time, far more believably. "_Really really _drunk."

My own embarrassment was quickly set aside as I tried not to giggle. "I honestly, really, truly don't care what anyone does on their own time." They both looked relieved. We continued downstairs. I could hear Rose muttering "that _can't happen again_" to Roland. _Watch the fabled Grey Wardens,_ I thought, _slinking away from a night full of drunken regret. Look on in awe as they recount tales of shame and humiliation!_

"Look," I said as we neared the bottom of the stairs. "Why don't we all agree last night was a fine example of why drinking our problems away only works for Oghren. And I'll apologize for apparently acting like a complete ass, from what Anders has explained to me."

"Agreed," came four voices.

"Not so loud, though," added Rose. Anders quickly healed her and Roland.

"That is my favorite spell ever," Roland said. "You are my very favorite mage in the world."

Once downstairs I saw our seven recruits had dwindled down to just four. They stood with Oghren waiting for us.

"Should we wait for the others?" I asked, not wanting to write them off completely.

Roland shrugged. "West Hill is about a day and a half from here. Leave now, leave later, doesn't change much."

"They're not coming," one of the men offered. Everyone nodded in agreement.

'Well, might as well set out now, then," I said. I had breakfast packed for us and, after a moment's contemplation, lunch as well, ordering double for all the Wardens.

We hiked out to the wagon. We had one human man, he was in fact another Patrick as I learned, Ewan and Caitlin from the alienage, who were actually the first two we met there, and a human woman named Treasa.

"Maggie," Arthur said as we walked to the wagon. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," I answered quickly, allowing us to fall a few paces behind the others. "What's on your mind?"

He sighed. "I owe you a huge apology. I am a _complete_ ass. What I said the other day, that was completely uncalled for."

"It's all right," I assured him. "I know you're not comfortable with magic, I figured it wouldn't go over well."

"Even so," he said. "I all but called you a _rapist_, for Andraste's sake. No, not all but, I _did_. That's... there isn't even a _word_ for how bad that is. I don't even know why I said it, it's obviously not true."

Just hearing him say that was enough to lift a weight from my shoulders. I was fine pretending it hadn't happened, but knowing he didn't mean make me perfectly content with the situation. I mean, honestly, most people would try and kill any blood mage on sight, so he was already coping better than expected. "Arthur, it's all right," I said again. "Really. It's not an easy topic to deal with, people say things they don't mean when they're upset. I figured you would get upset when you found out anyways. No hard feelings."

He looked over at me, clearly surprised. "Really? I kind of wonder what it would take to get on your bad side."

"Oh, I could tell some stories," I assured him. "I've actually got quite a temper. You should hear me rant about Jowan's former lover who abandoned him, or the templars who tried to arrest Anders. Or Arl Eamon's wife. Or templars in general, for that matter, I'm not really a fan of theirs."

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever contemplate a career change," he said, clearly relived to put that behind us.

Arthur rushed forward to walk alongside Roland, telling a story that involved a lot of hand waving and frustrated tugs at his hair. Anders and Oghren dropped back to walk with me. "Finally apologized?" Anders asked.

"He did," I said. "You didn't threaten him, did you?"

"Me?" Anders scoffed. "Of course not. I just pointed out how awful it must make him feel to know he said something like that to the woman who cried herself to sleep after giving them all the bad news. I may have waxed poetic about some of your finer qualities as well, to remind him that you did earn that title you hate so much."

"I threatened him," Oghren said. "Some point between teaching Anders how to dance and when you decided to climb all over him like a noblehunter who smells gold." I could only shake my head at that. "I always wondered if you two had any _fun_ with that magic of yours. Guess that answered my question." I hung my head, letting my hair cover the blush.

I read my letter from Nathaniel as we traveled. Everything was fine, he assured me. Repairs were going along quickly, the new stairs might be in by the time we returned. The Revered Mother had confirmed any problem the Grand Cleric had with me was her own. The Divine, apparently, held me in great respect. Or so she said, not that I entirely believed that.

We bypassed Arl Wulff's home in West Hill. When I wrote to him he never responded, from what I knew he rarely went out since his sons were killed in the blight. I felt bad for him, he'd always seemed like a kind man. Boarded up windows greeted us at the farms lining the road on the way to town.

"Well, this is cheery," Anders said. We were curled up in the back of the wagon, both of our cloaks wrapped around us.

"I like it. Very welcoming," I said, looking for a sign of life somewhere. It was well after dark, but we had been so close everyone decided pushing on to make town tonight would be smarter than camping just outside it. I closed my eyes briefly, curling closer to Anders. I had just begun to drift off in the wagon when my eyelids snapped open.

"Oghren!" I called up to the bench.

"Got it," he replied quickly, yanking back on the reigns.

The Wardens were on our feet quickly, already leaping over the sides and back of the wagon, while the recruits exchanged glances.

"Darkspawn!" I didn't need to say anything else, they were up quickly, removing weapons and watching our lead. I unsheathed my newly enchanted daggers, eager to try them out and ran towards one of the boarded up farms. An ogre trudged out to meet us.

"Maker's breath," I heard someone gasp behind me. I didn't have time to worry about that, genlocks and hurlocks were trailing in his wake. _Andraste's ass, why were so many on the surface_, I thought as I started flinging off spells. _No time_, I reminded myself._ Kill first, think later._

"Stay back," I shouted, calling up a snowstorm on the band. They howled in pain as ice assaulted them. Anders stood beside me and raised his hand, summoning lightning to go along with it. The screams intensified and I saw a few fall to the ground. "Get the ones who make it out," I called as some started to break free of our storm. We darted and weaved around them, dealing backstabs and shield attacks. Anders, working on crowd control, stayed back. His occasional shouts "Arthur, emissary on your flank" "Rose, to your left," "Maggie, behind you," rose over the sound of metal on metal and metal on flesh.

I took out a hurlock with a swift backstab before sending lightning flying towards the genlocks that stepped up to take his place. Someone cried out near me, I cast a frost spell and turned. "Anders!"

"I see him," he called, already rushing towards Patrick's side, hands beginning to glow with blue light. I listened for trouble while turning back to the frozen darkspawn, just beginning to shake off the spell. I punched a dagger through its neck and darted away. Staying low I cast spells, switching to stabbing out whenever I started to feel tired. An arrow shot by me, catching in my hair. I targeted the archers with lightning, managing to hold the spell until they dropped.

Someone else screamed and I could see a flash of blue and green as Anders darted over to the latest casualty. Oghren brought down an ogre behind me, I could feel the ground shake as it dropped. Two more ran out from behind the farmhouse to take its place.

"Back," I shouted, raising my hands to freeze them. I felt myself sag. The oghres all but laughed at the pathetic coating of frost I'd left on them. Someone else went down near me, dropping to their knees even as the hurlock they had been targeting fell to the ground. I slashed at my hand blindly, nearly taking off a finger in my rush. Focusing, I formed a cloud of red mist around my hands, creeping up my arms, until I was hidden by it. With a final grunt I thrust an arm at each ogre, pointing accusingly as the mist whipped around me. They howled, blood pouring from ears and eyes, as my spell cooked them alive. I darted between them, ducking to cut through the legs of a genlock, slashing its throat once it was down. Oghren barreled past me, blood splashing off his axe. I saw him finishing off an emissary and turned for a new target, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the attack was finally over.

Finally, I was able to look across the farmyard. I dropped to my knees, choking out "Blessed Andraste…" after a moment.

I quickly downed two lyrium potions in quick succession and tossed one to Anders, who was kneeling over Ewan, but not casting. He caught my eye and shook his head. I crawled over to Rose. Lying on her back in the gore her chest was barely moving, perhaps because of the two arrows sticking out of it. She opened her eyes and grinned up at me.

"Guess I screwed up, huh?"

"You sure did," I agreed. "You're stuck with _me_ healing you. Bad luck." I unbuckled her armor and gently lifted the front segment, sliding it up the shaft of the arrows. Grabbing my dagger I cut the shirt she had under it so the arrows were unobstructed. "Anders?" I called.

"Can't yet," he replied. "Patrick is… not good." Oghren was standing next to him, handing off poultices and lyrium potions every few moments. I saw Roland standing up, bleeding from a shoulder wound but otherwise fine.

"Roland!" He rushed to my side.

"Maker's breath, Rose!" he gasped, dropping to kneel next to me.

"She'll be fine," I said, not entirely sure if that was true. "I need help, though." I handed him several lyrium potions and poultices. "Hand me those as I ask for them," I began. He nodded, mouth set in a thin line. I looked around and saw Arthur patching up Caitlin with a health poultice. I couldn't see Teresa anywhere. "Hold this arrow steady," I told him, gesturing. "Don't let it move." He nodded, gripping it tightly where it pierced her skin. I snapped the top off. After doing the same on the second arrow I slid her armor up and tossed it aside.

"Hold her shoulders down," I told Roland. He shifted to kneel above her head, a hand on each shoulder.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"No, not at all," I lied. "Just a little pinch and it'll be done."

"Maggie, you are a _horrible_ liar."

"Fair enough. Count of three for the first." She nodded. I wrapped my hand around the arrow and counted before pulling it up, careful to keep the shaft straight. Rose shifted slightly, trying to double over, as blood gushed from the wound. I slapped a health poultice over it, applying pressure with my hand. Arrows before spells, I knew that much. Otherwise she could heal with the other arrow still in her. "Roland, hold her!" I snapped.

"Got her," he said, pinning her shoulders down. Rose grimaced.

"If she moves the other arrow could break before I get it out!"

"Got it," he said, sweat beading on his forehead. "You're doing great," I could hear him mutter to Rose. "Almost done."

"Only one more." She nodded, panting. I counted off again before pulling the arrow. This time Rose screamed, throwing he head back. Blood poured out once more. I didn't bother with the poultice, focusing everything I could on the spell. The unfamiliar energy moved through me. Blue light, faint, _too_ faint, began to surround my hands. Holding my hands to her wounds I prayed. _Please work please work Maker please let this work._

* * *

_Wow, I feel like this has gotten away from me. I know exactly how the next bunch of chapters will play out so it's all a matter of typing them. hence the frequent updates. Thanks as always for the reviews and adds!_


	19. Next time I'll just leave you be

Nothing was happening. "Roland, I need a potion." He went to hand me the bottle before pulling it back and opening it. I tipped my head back and grimaced as he dumped the syrupy liquid down my throat. The bleeding had slowed, and I could see one of the wounds beginning to close, but it was going too slowly. Rose's skin had begun to go from her normal pale shade to a decidedly ashen tone.

Anders was still kneeling over Patrick, Oghren stood looking on shaking his head. I couldn't hear them, but they were arguing about something, that much was clear from the way Anders' had clenched his jaw and Oghren kept pounding one fist into his open palm. Blue light was still flowing from Anders, though it was paler than usual and inconsistent. He couldn't help me, not yet.

I focused again, cutting off the spell and starting over. "Potion," I said. Roland complied. That seemed to do it. Rose's blood finally began to slow to a trickle, the skin knitting back together. Finally the first was healed, a brutal looking scar in its place.

Rose coughed slightly, a trickle of blood escaping her mouth. I centered my hands over her other wound, the deeper of the two, and put as much power behind the spell as I could. Nothing seemed to happen, but I couldn't tell for sure. This had been deep, the spell might be working internally for all I knew. I decided to wait it out and was rewarded. Eventually her skin began to stretch back together, closing off the wound. This scar was even worse than the first one. "I hope she's not mad about that," I muttered, dropping back to sit down.

"Something tells me she won't complain, Maggie," Roland replied, sitting next to me.

I shook my head. "Sloppy. _Bad_. I need to work on healing, that's completely unacceptable. What if Anders wasn't with us, or was among the wounded? We'd all be completely screwed." I made a face at that thought. _Here lies the entirety of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, dead because the legendary Hero of Ferelden couldn't heal anything deeper than a paper cut_. Grabbing my staff I lit up the farmyard. "Status, Arthur," I called.

"Ewan didn't make it," he said. "There was nothing Anders could have done, its… bad." I nodded, grimly. "Caitlin had a minor wound, a health poultice should do for now, but she would be better if it was healed."

"Teresa?" I asked, not seeing her among the living or the dead.

"We… we can't find her."

I sucked in a breath. "Do you think…"

"No," Roland said quickly, shaking his head. "_No. _Impossible. We _killed_ them all. None got away."

I closed my eyes and reached out. "I can't sense anything, not even a little. They couldn't have gotten away so quickly if…" I shook my head. Maybe we'd find her body eventually. Maybe she ran away. Nothing we could do about it now, though. "Let me see your wound," I said, turning to Roland. He shifted in the grass, unbuckling one shoulder of his armor and sliding his arm out of the sleeve.

"It's nothing," he said.

I looked, it really wasn't bad. The cut was long, extending from his neck to elbow, but not deep. Something I could manage to heal, but not flawlessly. "Want a poultice now and wait for Anders to heal you later, or a scar?" I asked.

"Oooh, a scar, please," he said. "Then I can tell stories about it when people ask. Or write a song."

I shook my head but cast the spell before calling for Oghren's report.

"Can you come over here, Maggie?" he asked in response.

I climbed to my feet and picked my way through the bodies to where he stood by Anders. Shining my staff's light out I looked for a sign of Teresa's auburn hair, seeing nothing.

Oghren took my arm, pulling me a few paces away from where Anders was working. "He's wasting his time and won't quit." I glanced over and looked more closely at Patrick. His skin was already grey. Magic could heal many things, but it couldn't bring back the dead.

"Got it," I said, patting Oghren's shoulder through his armor. "Can you scout around for Teresa, and make sure the area around this house is clear? Bring Arthur and Caitlin with you." He nodded, turning to go. Something else occurred to me. I walked over to Caitlin and knelt down next to her. She had streaks in her face from tears but her jaw was set. "Are you all right?" I asked her.

"I'll be fine," she said. "I knew it would be dangerous."

"This wasn't normal," I said, not able to hide the anger in my voice. "This was a huge group—during the blight this would have been a huge group. I don't know why so many are on the surface now." She nodded but didn't reply. "I need to take a look at your wound."

"It should be fine, Commander," Caitlin assured me, shoving her brown hair back behind her ear. "The poultice will be enough."

"That's not exactly what I'm checking for," I said. "Trust me for now, and please call me Maggie." She turned, slipping her armor out of the way. I peeled back the edge of the poultice gently and angled my staff to light the wound. The skin around it was grey, dried blood crusted on a series of angry looking punctures. Concentrating, I could sense corruption in it and managed to keep my expression level. Thanking her I went back to Oghren and Arthur.

"We have to do the Joining tonight," I said when we were out of Caitlin's earshot. "Tomorrow at the latest."

"We're not waiting until we get home?" Arthur asked.

"She's tainted, I don't know if we have that long. One bit her." I was glad I had prepared for that possibility, although I hadn't expected it until we reached the Deep Roads.

Neither said anything to that, both nodding slightly with understanding before collecting her and setting off. I walked over to Anders and knelt next to him.

"Come on," he was muttering under his breath, focusing the spell on a large wound in Patrick's chest. The skin around it was already dry and the light from my staff glinted off fragments of bone.

"Anders," I said softly. He ignored me. Reaching into the corona of magic surrounding his hands I moved them aside. He yanked free and cast a murderous glance before returning to work.

"I can do this," he muttered, reaching next to him with one hand for a lyrium potion, still keeping the spell steady with the other.

I grabbed both his hands before he could drink the syrupy concoction, holding his wrists tightly. He tried to squirm away again but I wouldn't release him. He was normally stronger than me, but he was also exhausted and on the edge of a lyrium overdose. "Anders, he's _dead,_ there's nothing you can do," I said as gently as possible.

"Yes there is," he protested. "I've _never _lost someone. I can heal him!" He yanked his arms roughly, freeing himself from my grip and shoved me away. Anders grabbed the discarded potion and I smacked it from his hand, sending it flying into the darkness.

"Anders, look at him. He's already cold!"

"What do you know about healing?" he snapped.

"I know Rose might die because our healer won't leave a corpse," I hissed back at him. "We need you. Rose is unconscious, I got the bleeding to stop but she needs more work, I'm sure the internal damage is still there. Caitlin got bit, she'll need help, too. I don't even know where Teresa is, she's just disappeared."

That got his attention. "Do you think…?"

"I don't know," I said, keeping my voice soft. "I don't think so, I couldn't sense any right after battle, and they wouldn't have gotten far enough away for me not to. Roland insists we didn't let any get away." He grimaced. "This is a disaster," I muttered, keeping my voice low.

"I've never lost anyone before," Anders said softly. "He was still breathing when I started."

I scooted closer to him, setting my staff aside. "There was nothing you could have done," I wrapped my arms around him. "He was already dead before he hit the ground, the Maker just hadn't caught up yet." He didn't say anything in reply. His breath against my neck was uneven and his arms were linked tightly behind my back.

"Well," he said after drawing in a deep breath, "back to work."

We both climbed to our feet, Anders immediately darting to Rose's side, holding a hand over her wounds. I cast as much light on the area as I could. Arthur wandered over. "We got the house opened up, and moved all our bags inside." I nodded. "I got this, too," he added, passing me a folded white sheet.

I thanked him. "I'll need another, though." He didn't ask for clarification, and spun to return inside.

"Bring two more," Anders called after him. I looked up. "We can move Rose inside on one. It'll be safer." He looked down at me, adding "sorry if I don't entirely trust your healing skills" with a small smile.

"Gee, why ever not?" I said. I took advantage of his absence to quickly unfold the sheet and wrap Patrick's body in it. His armor was destroyed so I left it on, but I took the necklace and ring he had on off him, laying them on the bundle once he was wrapped. Seeing the injury again I knew there was nothing anyone could have done. His body twisted unnaturally at the middle when I rolled him onto the sheet—his spine must have been snapped clean in two. Arthur returned with two more sheets. "Just one for me," I said. "The other is to move Rose. Can you help Anders and Roland with that; we need to get her inside where it's warm."

"Of course," he said, passing me the sheet. I shook it out and wrapped Ewan as well, wincing as I had to line the head back up to his body, being careful to tuck the fabric as tightly as I could so it wouldn't fall out when we lifted him in the daylight. He wasn't wearing jewelry or carrying any personal effects, I didn't bother to remove his light armor.

Sitting next to the two shrouded bodies I put my head in my hands. _Some commanding officer I am_, I thought. _Can't even keep them alive long enough to **try** the Joining_. Two days. I managed to get two recruits killed in two damned days. I should have told them to stay back at the wagon. I should have paid more attention to the rest of the battle so I would have known if they were in trouble. I should have made Loghain teach me how to be a half-decent general, not teach me new songs. Risking my own life on hunches and guesses during the blight was one thing; I was working with people who all had _more_ experience fighting than I did. Now it just left people I was supposed to be responsible for dead.

Not that second guessing myself would make them any more alive at this point.

I'm not sure how long I sat there. Eventually I saw someone walking around, bending to one of the darkspawn corpses with a knife. I looked up, quickly wiping my face. It was Arthur, collecting a vial of blood.

"Rose is up," he said. "Anders is still working on her, but she's conscious."

"Good," I said.

"Apparently you're going to be taking his healing classes with Aidan when we get home," Arthur added, grinning.

"That isn't such a bad idea," I admitted. "At least Anders won't be as condescending a teacher as Senior Enchanter Wynne was."

"That's not what Aidan says, but maybe he won't do that to you. I suspect you could make his life pretty miserable in retaliation," he said. "Anyways, we're all inside, but no one knows how to mix up the blood for the Joining."

"I'm showing everyone, then. We should all know. A mage _should_ do it, but anyone can technically."

I climbed to my feet. "So, um, that thing you did with the ogres?" he said finally.

"Yep, that was it."

"It almost looked like they were dancing," Arthur observed. "Well, until the blood shot from their eyes."

"That's what Anders says, too," I said. Suddenly remembering, I looked at my hand. The wound was filthy. I made a face and pulled a rag from my hip pocket, dampening a corner in my mouth before cleaning the dirt and grass from my wound.

Arthur watched me wince as I picked debris from my hand. "I can see why people are scared of that."

"I think the mind control is what scares people the most. I wouldn't do that, but killing darkspawn? They deserve as much as I can throw at them." He actually gave me a slight nod of agreement to that. "It's really exhausting, though. I mean, I only use my own blood, so I'm always in worse shape after the spell than I was before. Has to be a last resort or I'd be dead."

"I have to admit, I think things could have been even uglier if you hadn't taken those ogres out."

I looked down at the bodies again and shrugged. "Two dead and one missing doesn't seem like much of a victory." I managed to look back to Arthur and offer a small smile. For someone who couldn't even stand being healed a few months ago that was a surprising thing to admit. "But, thank you. From you I can appreciate that."

"You can't blame yourself for all this," he said, gesturing to the bodies, before turning and headed back to the farmhouse. The windows were still boarded, but light seeped out from cracks under them. I followed Arthur inside. To my relief Rose was up and walking around sipping from a metal cup, still wearing the tattered shirt I had cut through.

Thank the Maker," I said, seeing her whole again. "Finally, some good news."

"You wrecked my perfect skin, Maggie!" she laughed

"Sorry about that. Next time I'll just leave you be," I promised, returning her smile.

Anders met my eyes and inclined his head to the next room. I followed him into the kitchen. "I'm sorry for what happened," he said.

"What happened?"

He shrugged. "I should have known there was nothing I could do. I wasted time trying; I could have been helping Rose instead." He flushed at that. "We could have lost both of them."

"I'll never get mad at you for trying to save someone's life," I said. "You're a healer, that's what you _do_. I would rather know you're doing everything you can to keep us all alive. Just, next time if two people are saying you're too late, try listening to them?" He nodded at that but didn't say anything. "Are you all right," I asked. "You know that wasn't your fault, right? His injury was fatal, even I could see that."

He shook his head. "That doesn't make it any easier, really. Perhaps the whole 'feel guilty for everything and anything' habit that you and Nathaniel seem to enjoy so much has rubbed off on me." Anders put his arms around me and chuckled. "What? You think I don't know that's exactly what you're doing now. What do you think? That I can't tell when you've been crying?"

"I really screwed this up," I said, fighting not to cry again without much success.

"Oh, did you invite all the darkspawn? Not your best idea, Maggie."

"Not funny."

"Of course it was," he said. "You would have appreciated it if you weren't so insistent on kicking yourself in the head right now. Come on now, what could you have done? Andraste's knickers, we got ambushed. You can't blame yourself for everything." He kissed the top of my head and let go of me. "Do you think _anyone_ here is blaming you?"

I wiped off my face. Anders caught sight of my hand as I did and pulled it towards him to look closer. He healed the cut, making a noise of disapproval. "Can you get everyone else, and bring me my pack," I asked when he was done. "And the blood Arthur collected as well?"

"We're doing this _now_? What do we do with Caitlin in the meantime?"

"We have to, she got bit. Ask her to wait for us." Anders made a face but left to do as I asked. I stripped off the breastplate of my armor and retrieved the metal flask hidden in a pocket of the lining. I was buckling it back up when everyone joined me.

"Knew I shoulda rushed," Oghren said, watching me fiddle with the elaborate straps of my armor. I made a face at him.

"We should all know how to do this," I explained as I dug through the cabinets for a metal cup. The archdemon's blood could eat through wood, and a farmhouse was unlikely to have glass or crystal. "It's safest for a mage since lyrium dust is involved. You can avoid touching the darkspawn blood, but it's tough not to breathe that in." At that everyone but Anders began to ease away from the table. "Just stay close enough to see," I said. "Maybe we can add the dust to the archdemon blood in advance in the future, but I don't like the idea of experimenting on living people, you know?" No one argued, watching me mix the ingredients. "The blood," I gestured, after carefully pouring the pale blue powder in, trying to keep it from getting into the air. Arthur handed it over and I quickly upended the vial before stirring with my dagger. Holding hand over the cup I cast a tiny flame on the surface until it began to boil so I would know the lyrium had dissolved completely.

After I cleaned my dagger I burned the rag I used in the washbasin, not wanting anything that contaminated left where someone could touch it by mistake.

"That's it," I said, looking at the rough cup. Not as fancy as the ancient chalice we had back at the Keep, the one I'd rescued from Ostagar. The vessel didn't much matter, though, especially not when you thought about what went into it. "So, if any of you are ever out looking for recruits and something like this happens again, you can do the joining right away. At least give them a fighting chance at survival. Tie a rag over your nose and mouth if you must."

We quickly went over the ceremony. Once done, I left everyone waiting while I went to speak with Caitlin.

"Grey Warden secrets?" she asked with a slight grin when I returned.

"Well," I said, sitting on the floor across from her, "they won't be secret for much longer." That caused her to sit up. "You got bit," I said, knowing I didn't really need to remind her. She nodded, watching me. "Darkspawn bites are fatal, it allows their corruption to get into your system. I won't lie, right now you only have a few days at the most before it overtakes you."

"But I feel fine," she protested, looking panicked.

"You will at first. It takes time for the symptoms to appear. I can sense it in you, though, just like how we can sense the darkspawn themselves." She wrapped her arms around her legs and I went on. "_If_ today hasn't caused you to reconsider, there could be a chance to save you. We've prepared the joining already. Your odds shouldn't be any worse than someone who isn't already suffering from their corruption."

"If anything," she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind one pointed ear, "it's made me more sure of it. Those things, they're evil. They _deserve_ to die. They _need_ to. Everyone cared during the blight, but now people think they've been wiped out. They're still out there, living and breathing, though. Someone has to kill them."

I felt the same way after leaving the Wilds before my own joining. Anders had once mentioned he would have fought being conscripted if he hadn't seen the darkspawn for himself while we fought the attack on the Keep. It wasn't universal, though. Ser Jory, at my own joining, seemed even more nervous after encountering darkspawn in the flesh. I noticed she never asked me what I meant when I brought up the odds of survival.

Caitlin followed me back to the small kitchen where everyone waited. I explained the sacrifice we make and we ran through the brief ceremony before handing her the cup. She tentatively sipped from it, gasping in horror after swallowing. I quickly grabbed the cup from her hands so it wouldn't spill. Oghren grunted in approval as she fell back.

"Is… is that good?" Arthur asked, looking at her body.

"I suppose that depends on how much you like being a Warden," Anders said, laughing.

"Good," I said, "backwards is good. When they choke and fall forward its bad."

I hopped up to sit on the table, relieved. We still had the two bodies to deal with, and one missing recruit, but a successful Joining was a reason for some happiness. "We need to figure out what to do about Teresa," Arthur said suddenly. I guess that means happy time was over.

"I honestly don't know what to do," I said. "I didn't see her at all once the fight started, but I wasn't really looking. A darkspawn wouldn't leave the battle to drag her off, though. They'd do it after."

"Do you think she got scared and ran off?" Arthur asked.

"Maker's breath, I hope not," I said. "I mean, alone, after dark, in the middle of nowhere?" I shook my head. If that was the case I would really start to wonder why it was only the women who took off. The thought had never even occurred to me after I was conscripted, and these were both women who readily volunteered.

"Nothing we can do," Oghren said. "If she ran, she ran. If they got her, well, I pity the girl but we wouldn't have a hope of finding her." I voiced my agreement, not seeing anything to argue with in his statement.

"What about the dead?" I asked. "Should we bring them to the Chantry in town?"

"Seems reasonable," Anders said. "Better than trying to have a ceremony on our own." He sighed, sitting next to me. "I'm exhausted. I can't wait until we reach Orzammar."

"What's with you and that city?" Oghren asked. "Is this a mage thing?"

"It's interesting," I supplied. "Can't get much further from a freezing tower in the sky. I like the people there, too," I added. "No one ever questioned me because I was a woman, and they respect the Wardens more than anyone else." Oghren rolled his eyes at that. "Well, I didn't say it was _perfect_," I added. "I hate that caste system, for one thing."

"I heard Behlan's letting casteless serve in the army now," he said. "Felsi's cousin wrote and told her about it. When the nobles soiled their trousers over it he just dissolved the assembly."

I blinked with shock. "Wow… I have no idea how to feel about that. I mean, I agree with him, but dissolving the assembly? That's a huge step. And not really a good one, either."

"Don't much know what to think of it, either," Oghren said. "I'm stuck in the same place as you. Tradition will kill us all, though, so maybe those deshyrs need a kick in the arse. Not like our numbers are getting _bigger_." I didn't have any response to that, so I fished a pendant from my bag, carefully pouring a small amount of the blood in before resealing it.

"We should take this cup with us," I said. "If someone else used it… well, they wouldn't be happy." Rose plucked it from my hand, using the kitchen water pump to rinse it out before returning it. Drying it with a rag, I tucked it into my pack.

Everyone sat at the table, Oghren taking it upon himself to dig out provisions for everyone. I watched Caitlin until I saw her eyelids flutter. Dropping off the table I knelt next to her. "Nightmare from the fight," she said after I welcomed her.

"Not exactly," I said, before explaining the dreams to her.

"So, it worked then?" she asked. "I'm not going to die of the corruption?"

"No sooner than any of us," Roland said with a chuckle. I shot him a dirty look, he only shrugged. Since he'd already opened that door I went through all the bad news. She looked unsurprised.

"I can see why you keep it a secret," she said finally.

"Are you upset?" Rose asked, watching her for a reaction.

"Not really…" Caitlin began, looking thoughtful. "I mean, yes, but I was dead in a couple days anyways, so thirty years isn't bad. Knowing _when_ I'll die is a bit creepy, though."

"If it makes you feel any better I was _in_ the deep roads when I found out."

"Tell me you're kidding," Anders said. I shook my head. "So, does His Majesty have a strange cruel streak I missed out on, or is he just oblivious?"

"The latter, definitely," I said. "I had finally noticed how _starving_ I was when we were camped about halfway between Orton Thaig and Carridan's Cross. I mentioned it, wondering if it was something to do with the air in Orzammar, or being underground. Alistair said 'oh no, that's normal for Wardens."

"And you had to go and ask what else changed," he supplied.

"Yep," I agreed. "He said something like 'In addition to all the other awesome things you get being a Grey Warden, you never have to worry about getting old. You've got about thirty years to live,' and then he went on to explain the Calling. While we were _in the sodding Deep Roads._ Hey, you're going to die. What's more, you're going to die _right here_. Get a nice long look at it, you'll be back!"

"Fantastic sense of timing on his part," Anders said, chuckling.

"Wasn't it? I wasn't too mad about it, but I kept asking him why he hadn't thought to mention it to me sooner. Like, the two weeks we spent walking from the Wilds to Orzammar, or the week we spent running all over the city like maniacs." I could laugh now, but at the time I almost clobbered him. He hadn't wanted to be the one to tell me, and kept putting it off hoping some other Warden would show up and explain everything. I was disturbed by finding out I was actually standing in the place I would die, but not really angry. I was _angry_ he called me a pig and made a crack about how it was a good thing I got a lot of exercise. Chantry upbringing or no, who says that sort of thing?

That night I tossed and turned in the bedroom Anders and I had commandeered. When I did manage to fall asleep I would wake up not long after, either from his screaming or my own. If the exhaustion on everyone's faces as we loaded the wagon was any indication we hadn't been the only ones.

* * *

_A/N: I know Duncan says in Origins the mages were preparing the Joining, but in Awakening that doesn't seem to be the case, so I thought, hey, make something up. Not that it matters, I'm just a cannon stickler. I'm not thrilled with this chapter in the least, it's far too WARDENS: SERIOUS BUSINESS for my tastes, so I may go back and rewrite it. I just wanted to get past it for now. Sick of looking at the same paragraphs on my screen. _

_Oh, and on my first playthrough I totally did trigger that conversation with Alistair in the deep roads. _


	20. the secret heartthrob of Ferelden

When Patrick (_the late Patrick,_ I reminded myself) told me West Hill was a ghost town he was being generous. Finding no guards outside we took our wagon right into town. Normally that would be forbidden, but I wasn't about to leave six horses unattended. I saw three people total in the time it took us to find the tavern. I went in to resupply, post my letter of our almost-complete failure to Nathaniel, and collect the one he had sent for me. Half a dozen people had shown up at the Keep, looking to enlist with the Wardens. Nathaniel said he sent a couple away since they were 'completely useless' but kept the rest and was working on training until we returned home. I also posted a very brief letter to Weisshaupt recording a new Warden in Ferelden. Since I knew someone was apparently keeping track, even if they didn't respond, I had gotten better about writing them promptly.

Armed with directions to the Chantry we set out again. The bodies were wrapped and laid at the end of the wagon. I sat on the driver's bench along with Anders and Rose, everyone else crammed as close to us as they could get, not wanting to sit too close to the shrouded men. Stopping in front of the Chantry I hopped down from the wagon, walking inside quickly. A woman sat praying but the chapel area was largely empty. I got the impression that was the case even during services. Continuing down the large main aisle I hooked a left into the Revered Mother's office.

"Can I help you?" she asked, eyeing the staff on my back with caution.

"I'm Commander of the Grey in Ferelden," I said by way of introduction, to reassure her I wasn't an apostate. Or an apostate she could send her templars after, at least. "Two of our new recruits fell to a darkspawn attack outside town, they'll need cremation."

She stood up, gesturing to the templars nearby to follow her. "We won't be able to perform the service for another day or two. Will you be staying?"

I shook my head. "Unfortunately we're due in Orzammar by then." I didn't add that I might crawl out of my skin if we stayed in this miserable dead town any longer than necessary. I was being cold, I knew it, but this place gave me the chills. She got up to follow me to the bodies.

"You'll need a stretcher to carry them," I advised the templars. "Both are in bad shape."

"I'm sure we can handle carrying one Warden each," one of the templars scoffed, looking at me like I was a fool. He whispered something to his companion and they both made no effort to hide their laughter.

I tried not to roll my eyes. "If you insist," I said. "The smaller body was beheaded. I'll be sorely put out if you drop part of him, he died honorably in battle. The second has a broken back, so support the middle when you lift him or he'll fold in half." I could appreciate that Chantry templars rarely wore the helmets that the tower templars all adored when I saw the look on his face. Really, did they think I warned them because as a frail little mage I assumed no one could possibly lift another adult? They exchanged a glance and fetched a large stretcher from a cabinet on the wall.

I walked through the chapel, hearing a gasp as I went past the lone occupant. Glancing over I noticed the auburn hair first, the owner was currently studying something on the opposite wall, the back of her head to me. I froze and cleared my throat dramatically. Teresa turned back to me, face red with humiliation and refusing meeting my eyes. I couldn't stop myself from giving her a disgusted look before continuing outside.

"So one mystery is solved," I said at camp that night. "I saw Teresa in the Chantry."

"What?" Oghren said. "She _volunteered_ and ran at the first sign of battle?"

"At least she had the decency to do it before we put her through the Joining and told her all the secrets," Anders said.

"What would you do if someone tried to leave during the Joining?" Rose asked me.

"Kill them," I responded quickly. Perhaps too quickly, given how most of the group reacted. "Well it's not like I would _enjoy_ it," I said. "What choice is there, though? Let them run and tell everyone who will listen?"

"I suppose not," Rose agreed. "But still…"

"Duncan had to do that at my joining. There were three of us. The first died, and the second panicked when he saw it. He tried to threaten him with a sword to get out of it and Duncan had to take him down. It was the right decision."

"And _that's_ your hero?" Anders said, shaking his head.

"One of them," I agreed. "I wish I was more like him, we'd be in much better shape if I were."

"Who else?" Roland asked.

"Honestly? You can't laugh if I tell you." Everyone swore not to, and although I didn't believe a single one of them, I answered anyways. "When I was young it was Loghain Mac Tir."

"So _that's_ why you let him live," Oghren said once everyone had calmed down from their hysterical laughter, shaking his head.

"No!" I insisted. "I saved him because Riordan said there were very important secret Warden reasons I should. I didn't know about the whole how to kill an archdemon thing yet, but I figured it had to be something big. Turns out I was right."

"Mine too," Arthur agreed. "I think everyone goes through a Loghain phase at some point."

"I never did," Anders answered, "but I've noticed half the girls in the tower had pictures of him tacked up in their bunks. Never got that close a look at most of the men's bunks."

"I like how you work in the hint that you've been in the bed of more than half the girls in the tower," I said, laughing.

"Oh, deft subject change," Rose said. "So which was it, Maggie? Was it the one where his hair was blowing in the wind while he looked over the battlefield at River Dane, or the one of him and Maric after the liberation of Gwaren?"

"You're awfully familiar with his pictures, Rose," I said. "Should we assume those two were in your room?"

"Only the first," she said, grinning. "My sister took the second. She liked Maric."

"Neither," I said. After Arthur, Rose, and Anders all made noises of disbelief I laughed. "I had the one of him on his horse with a bow." They all laughed as I mimed out Loghain drawing an arrow back as he had been in the old drawing. "Don't you dare tell Alistair, he'll kill me. He's still a bit twitchy about the whole thing as it is."

"So is this normal?" Roland asked. "Loghain was the secret heartthrob of Ferelden?"

"Don't ask me," I said. "Among mages he was, but as I'm often told, we're not normal. I did notice a lot of the young women with the army hanging around near his tent at Ostagar waiting to catch a glimpse of him, though."

"Did you?" Anders asked.

I snorted. "Me? I marched right up and said I was a Grey Warden looking for an audience with the Teyrn! He said King Cailin couldn't stop talking about me, and that I was pretty." They laughed, but I felt the need to clarify. "Well, no, he said I was pretty _for a Grey Warden_, but I just pretended not to hear the rest. I mean, of course I was pretty for a Warden, at the time I was the only Warden in Ferelden who didn't have to shave their face every day! I won prettiest Warden by total default. Alistair never could figure out why, after we found out Loghain left the Wardens and king to die, I only muttered 'but... but... he said I was _pretty!_' in response." I shook my head as they laughed. "Come on, everyone else. Tell."

"I aimed a bit higher than Loghain. I wanted to be Maric when I grew up. Well, mostly I wanted to be king when I grew up, but it amounts to the same thing," Anders said.

"That explains the hair," Rose said, laughing.

"There's nothing wrong with my hair," Anders protested, tucking a stray strand behind an ear.

"I like his hair," I added.

"Well there's an unbiased opinion," Rose quickly answered, earning laughter from everyone.

"I've been thinking of growing mine longer," Oghren mused. "Give the ladies something to grab onto, you know?"

"_What _ladies?" Anders snorted. "You're a married man!"

"Well, my wife…" he grinned suddenly. "My wife's no _lady_, but we have fun pretending she is sometimes."

"Way more than I needed to know, Oghren," Rose said, making a face.

Once he'd stopped laughing Oghren said "Mine was Paragon Aeducan. Led the dwarva armies against the first blight. Greatest warrior in our history. Which makes him the greatest warrior ever, since it's not like any of you tall folk can top us." Roland made a face at Oghren but laughed.

"Garahel," Caitlin said, blushing. "My mother even got me a copy of the painting of him killing the archdemon." She shrugged. "There aren't really any famous elven warriors besides him, though, and my father was very big on being proud of our heritage. Made me read everything about any famous elf he could find. Well, I guess there's also Shartan, but I'm not really religious."

"We have the original painting at home," I said. She made an impressed noise.

"Dane," Roland said, making a face when we all giggled. "What? Nothing wrong with that. He's Ferelden's greatest hero."

"If you're _six_," Anders laughed. "When we get the puppies you are _not_ allowed to name yours Dane!"

Roland grumbled at that. "Come on, Maggie," he tried appealing to me.

"That was my dog's name," I said. "He died fighting the archdemon."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "I didn't know you had a mabari before. Well, I won't reuse his name: that would be mean."

"We get _dogs?_" Caitlin said, looking surprised. "I've read every book I could find on the Wardens, I've never heard they got dogs!"

"Hey, this is _Ferelden_," I said by way of explination. "We've got a houndmaster at home, his dogs are expecting. We're going to try imprinting when they're old enough. Dogs are great fighters against darkspawn, especially for mages and archers." Before I took to using a sword Dane had always crouched near my feet when we fought, taking down anything or anyone that came too close to me.

"Wait a second, did you say you've read every book on Wardens?" Anders said, raising an eyebrow.

"All the ones I could find," she admitted. "Way more exciting than reading about the Dalish, and my father never complained about that since they took elves and women." She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "I never could figure out why he didn't pack us all up to find the Dalish." Caitlin looked at Anders curiously. "Why, what's wrong with reading about the Wardens? I mean, wouldn't that be a _good_ thing for a new recruit?"

"Just worried we have another Maggie on our hands," Oghren supplied, causing both men to snort with laughter. "Go ahead, ask her anything. Our girl has it all memorized. Every sodding battle from Her Bottom to Starknaked to the day she joined."

"Her Bottom?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow. "Stark_naked_?"

"He means Nordbotten," I said. "First battle the Wardens took part in. And Stark_haven_, in the second blight. Oghren, you're doing that on purpose. Lake Clean Bad I could believe, but now you're just having fun."

"And how," he replied, raising his flask.

"And…" Anders said, grinning. "Come on, you're dying to say it. I can tell. Let it out now or you'll just explode later. Tell us all how they appeared on the battlefield of Nordbotten."

"I hate you," I told him.

"No you don't," he laughed. "You're completely in love with me. Now say it."

"Didn't they arrive at the battle on griffins?" Caitlin supplied.

"They did," I confirmed.

"Shame we don't have _those_ anymore," she said. "Mabari are great, but nothing could top griffins."

I grinned at that. No one else seemed to understand my fascination with that part of our order's history. "Finally!" I said. "Finally someone else who understands!"

* * *

We crossed the bridge leading to the massive doors of Orzammar. Anders was all but bouncing with excitement next to me. "Took a while, but I promised we'd get here eventually," I whispered.

"I never doubted you," he replied, squeezing my hand.

"All right, everyone," I said. "I don't know if we'll be put up in the palace, so don't act as though you're expecting it. If not, we'll get rooms in the Commons. I want everyone on their best behavior in the city, we're respected here and I don't want us to be the Wardens who ruin that for everyone." They all nodded.

"And no cracks about high shelves," Oghren added. I winced. Leliana had made a comment like that when we visited the first time, even I was embarrassed and what I knew of social graces at the time would have fit on the tip of a dagger.

Leaving our wagon in care of the door guards we approached the door. Oghren hefted one of the wooden ale kegs of ale for the King alone, Roland and Arthur took the other.

"Atrast Vala," the guard said, watching us warily.

"Atrast Vala," I replied in kind. "Grey Wardens, expected by King Behlan."

He nodded. "I didn't recognize you without the dress, Warden." Glancing over my shoulder he saw the kegs. "For the king?" I nodded.

"Leave them here for now; we'll deliver everything to the palace. Go on ahead, Grey Wardens. Your kind are always welcome in Orzammar."

I thanked him and waited for the giant doors to swing open. We entered the lift and waited for the doors to close, pretending not to notice the curious glances of the traders. Finally they slammed shut with a crash and, with the sound of metal on metal, we began to descend.

"Maker's breath," Rose gasped. "How far down are we going?"

"Far," I supplied. "Don't know the exact distance. Hope you got a good look at the sky."

Finally the lift clanked to a shuddering halt and the doors swung open on the Hall of Heroes. I led us through the Commons and to the Diamond Quarter, occasionally prodding the others to hurry up. They were spinning around, staring at the height of the cavern, the rivers of lava, and everything that fell between them. "We can wander around later, I promise, we're already a day late."

I ignored a few comments as we passed nobles who had supported Behlan's opponent for the throne and still held a grudge, directing everyone to do the same. A few people recognized us and offered greetings, though, which I made sure we stopped to return. Once at the palace we were presented to the king. He greeted us and, as I expected, insisted on putting the 'fabled warriors against true evil' up in the palace. I had to stomp down on Anders' foot to keep him from snickering at Behlan's blustering speech. He was a despot with a flair for the overly dramatic, but he was an ally.

Once we'd been settled in our rooms I met with the king in private. "Warden," he greeted me. "What brings you to Orzammar? You've got a large group with you for a simple recruitment search. No trouble with the darkspawn, I hope?"

"I'm not sure yet," I told him. "I'll need a pass to the deep roads, we have to do some investigating." He reached into a drawer and handed me a slip of parchment without question. I explained the talking darkspawn we encountered around Amaranthine, and the slaughter of the Legion near Kal'Hirol.

He sat back in his chair. "So it's true, then?"

"You've heard the news from the surface?" I asked, hoping he would agree.

"No," he admitted with a shake of his head. "One of the Legion, from the unit stationed near Bownammar, crawled out perhaps a month back. We dismissed it as madness." After a second I remembered Bownammar was just the real name of what Oghren had called 'the Dead Trenches.'

"Is he still alive?" I asked quickly.

"The guards killed him," Behlan said. "They thought he had been corrupted and didn't risk giving it a chance to spread." It was a reasonable response, but I couldn't say I was happy.

"Do you know how far Bownammar would be from Kal'Hirol?" It had taken us almost two weeks on foot to reach it, counting our detours through Carridan's Cross and Orton Thaig. Perhaps it was closer to Amaranthine. I hadn't the slightest idea, my sense of direction was spotty at best.

"The opposite direction completely," Behlan confirmed. So much for my hope that he had simply been close enough to find darkspawn from our original encounter with them.

"In that case, I think it's essential I get at least as far as Bownammar to speak with the unit stationed there," I said. "I'm going to give my people a few days to rest before we head out, though. We were ambushed by a large group on our way here and lost two recruits in the fight."

"I thought the darkspawn rarely moved in large groups on the surface outside your Blights?"

"They don't," I agreed. "Not usually, at least."

"It couldn't be another so soon," he said. I wasn't sure if he was asking or telling me.

"They wouldn't have had the time to rebuild their numbers yet," I agreed. "But I think something is going on. I found the source of these new speaking darkspawn and killed him. But if there was another, or a follower survived…" I shuddered at the thought.

"You know we stand with the Wardens," Behlan assured me. "Orzammar knows better than anyone the threat of darkspawn."

The rest of our conversation was far more mundane. Two provings scheduled for the next day, one open to anyone who wanted to show themselves off for the Wardens, one for the Warrior and Noble caste since too many of them still refused to fight with the lower castes and casteless. "Change is slow," he said after explaining that unusual system. "Maybe your luck breaking those prejudices will be better than mine has been."

"I hope so," I agreed. "One of my senior Wardens grew up in Dust Town. Any recruit will have to accept her orders."

"As did my wife," he said. "Change _will_ come to Orzammar, if people want it or not. We can't have infighting if we're to stand against the darkspawn and reclaim our empire." He punctuated that statement with a slam of his fist into the desk. Almost as an afterthought he said "Rica thanks you for the stuffed doll, by the way. Little Endrin's hardly let go of it. I'm starting to fear he may take after my brother. He often spoke of wanting to join the Wardens." Behlan looked sad as he said that, but shook off the expression quickly, returning to the determined gaze he typically wore. He then told me a guard would escort us to the royal box for the provings the next day and I took the hint, excusing myself.

A note on the nightstand in my room read 'Oghren's taking us on a tour!' in Anders' familiar handwriting. A tour I gave might involve the Shaperite, the Assembly Chamber, perhaps the Proving Arena or shopping in the Commons.

Of course, I didn't even bother checking any of those.

I found Roland on the stage at Tapsters attempting to lead everyone in 'The Auld Triangle,' with little success, while only Arthur, Anders and Rose joined in on the chorus. I walked over to the table, wondering how long it would take them to notice me. When Anders finally looked up from his pint and saw me he reached up to grab me around the waist and pull me down to sit on his lap. "This place," he announced, "is _fantastic!" _Anders offered a loud cheer as Roland finished the song. "I used to sing that when I was in solitary confinement at the tower, over and over. Sometimes for days at a stretch. Drove the templars completely insane."

A waitress walked over to get my order. "You the commander?" she asked, giving me a dubious glance.

"Unfortunately," I admitted. "Is there a problem?"

"No, but Oghren said you'd be by to pay."

I handed her a few coins for what they'd already ordered.

"So the old drunk's _really_ a Warden?" she shook her head. "I thought you people bragged about taking only the best!"

"You should see him take down an ogre!" Arthur interrupted. "Amazing."

She shook her head again before leaving, her expression made it clear she thought that we were all insane. I could hear Oghren's laughter from across the room. He was apparently holding court among several heavily armored men, recounting a story of some fight or another. He began to wave a hand across the air in mimicry of a flying animal, making a screeching sound. His version of the defeat of the archdemon, apparently, complete with sound effects.

Caitlin was sitting with a small group of women in leathers not far from us. I was surprised to see one of them sporting a face brand. The last time I was here casteless weren't even allowed in the tavern. I could hear occasional words of their conversation; she had apparently taken it upon herself to bolster the number of women in our ranks if the mentions of famous Warden battles were any indication. Caitlin raised a glass to us after noticing I had joined everyone.

Eventually someone managed to coax Roland to relinquish the spotlight and he sat with us.

"So is it just me," Anders said, keeping his voice low enough it wouldn't be heard beyond our table, "or is the king a bit…"

"Megalomaniacal?" suggested Roland.

"Despotic?" offered Rose.

"Melodramatic?" asked Arthur.

"All of those," I said. "But, he shares our goals. His opponent seemed to think keeping the darkspawn pushed back was enough, and the blight was a surface issue. He would have helped because of the treaties, but Behlan was the one who took it seriously. Plus, the caste thing." It didn't seem like anyone was quite drunk yet, but they were all certainly in good spirits. Which meant I had to ruin the evening. "I have bad news, would you rather find out right away, or later?"

Anders sighed, tightening his grip on my waist. "Now," he said after a moment. "Before Oghren's too drunk to stand up, at least." No one argued so we climbed to our feet. I gestured to Caitlin, who rushed over as Roland pulled Oghren from his admirers to join us.

"Let's go back to the palace," I suggested. "We can talk in our room in private. You're all free to come back after if you want." Once we were there I closed the door and quickly explained what I had learned from the king.

"What do you think about it?" Anders finally asked, sitting crosslegged on the bed and chewing his nails.

"You know as much as I do," I said. "Maybe it's stragglers from our group, maybe they spread out."

"Or maybe there's another architect," Oghren supplied.

"That is _definitely_ a worst case scenario," I said. "I'm going to write to Nathaniel tonight and let him know everything since we may be here longer than I expected. I'll try and, I don't know, code it so he knows what I mean but no one else will."

"I can just imagine what that will say," Anders said, laughing despite his obvious nervousness. "I don't think we should bring the recruits with us when we look," he added.

"Aye," Oghren agreed.

"Why not?" Caitlin asked.

"We're not talking about you," I assured her. "If things are bad and someone gets tainted, well, I don't know if we'd be able to do the joining. People can be unconscious for a while after, if we don't find a safe place…" I didn't finish the statement, it really didn't require any elaboration. "I don't even know what to expect, to be honest. Other than by the Keep I've only been in the Deep Roads during blights, when the darkspawn are mostly on the surface. We may get two miles in and have to come right back."

"Shouldn't be _that_ bad," Oghren supplied. "They still won't have the numbers they usually do this soon after a blight. I've been in during the build-up to the blight, that was bad, even without them being able to smell us out, but we still made it to Aiducan Thaig."

"Smell us out?" Caitlin said.

"Not literally," I said. "I've been a Warden long enough they can sense me as well as we can sense them."

"Oh, this is going to be such fun," Anders said. "And by fun I mean bloody and not very fun at all."

"Hey, I never promised being a Warden was all fun," I said.

"You said it was better than the Circle," he replied. "That hints at it being fun."

"Would you rather shoot lightning at monsters with me or listen to Greagoir lecture on how magic exists to serve man again and sit through one of the first enchanter's lectures on how a mage must work to prove themselves trustworthy?"

Anders chuckled. "All right, this is more fun than those things."

"So do we get to watch one of those big fights?" Roland asked. "Everyone's talking about them."

"Two, actually," I said. "One will be warrior and noble caste since some of them still won't fight with anyone else, the other is open to anyone. We're supposed to join the king in his box tomorrow."

"Let me guess," Anders said, "we won't be taking any recruits from the first. At least until you make them fight with the winners of the second as well to weed out anyone too prejudiced against lower castes since it'll be easier than just sending them back here if they're rude to Sigrun when we get home."

"How did you know?" That was actually almost exactly what I had planned.

"Did we just meet yesterday?" he said with a laugh. "I know you better than you know yourself."

"That sounds like a challenge," Rose said. "If that's the case you can tell us what she's thinking now!"

"Easy," Anders said. "She's wishing you would all get out of our room so we can be alone."

I hadn't been thinking that. At least, not until Anders put the idea in my mind.

* * *

_A/N: Hello teeny mention of dwarven noble origin and lingering guilt! In my mind, Dwarven Noble is almost always female (most likely due to Aimo's awesome comics), but the game does say Endrin had three sons if you play any other origin. And yes, I musically did just slam them headlong into a midcentury Brendan Behan play. Bah. Celtic folk songs have a great timelessness to them and, frankly, I know perhaps four pre 17th century songs, but about two billion Irish songs and border ballads. _

_ Thanks so much to everyone who reviews, it always makes my day.  
_


	21. I'm on to you, it won't work!

Standing in the king's box we watched what might have been the two hundredth battle out of nine thousand, for as exciting as it seemed. I enjoyed a good fight as much as the next person, but this was dragging on far too long. It was all formal stances and bowing before a completely predictable fight occurred. The fact that I felt like I hadn't slept at all didn't help much. That wasn't entirely my fault, either.

Anders and I had quickly discovered we were both far too tall for the bed in our room, and the ornate footboard made just sleeping with our legs hanging over the bottom out of the question. Sure, we made do for the most part. But actually sleeping? Not so easy. We finally decided to turn sideways, even though the bed ended around my knees that way and even higher on him, and pull two chairs up to prop our legs on them. Not the best solution, it meant every time one of us shifted our legs dropped and we both woke up. And it turns out even without those troubles that sleeping this close to the Deep Roads was even more difficult than I remembered it being.

I forced myself to pay closer attention to the fights, or at least put on a good show of it. They didn't schedule provings for just anyone, this was actually a fairly big deal. Looking anything less than appreciative would be a bad move. Two of the Silent Sisters, the female warriors who cut out their tongues, were currently battling hand to hand. I had to admit, it was impressive. I rarely saw people fight without weapons or at least magic. I didn't know if hand to hand combat would translate well to darkspawn, though. They were nasty enough without getting that close and personal. They were here to try and join us, though. I vaguely wondered how we would communicate with them if one of them came out the victor.

"They use hand gestures to speak," the Proving Master whispered to me. I guess everyone had the same question about them. Oghren and I stood to one side, watching each fight. He would occasionally comment on someone's technique, or offer information if the fighter was someone he knew. Anders, Roland, and Arthur were lined up, hands on the rail, watching in wide-eyed astonishment, looking every bit the tourists from the surface. Rose and Caitlin seemed to jump between the two groups, offering commentary to Oghren and I, or joining Anders, Roland and Arthur in cheering after the matches. From what I could tell they both seemed torn between wanting to just sit back and have fun, and feeling like they should be working.

After, I don't know, several hours, a month, perhaps a decade, the rich and powerful segment of the provings was over. We broke for a lunch of nug meat and, well, more nug meat. "Oooh, can I try a dwarven ale?" Anders asked the servant who brought out steaming dishes of meat and bowls of sauce.

Roland and Rose both echoed his statement. "Get one and share it," I said. "It's… not what you'd expect. If you like it you can get more, but there's no need to waste." Alistair had challenged me to drink the vile brew when we were here. Not wanting to look weak I chugged half the pint immediately. I then, just as quickly, vomited all over my boots while he laughed hysterically and Leliana hit him in the shoulder. Even Oghren preferred surface brews.

The waitress returned with pitchers of a red surface ale, and a single pint of the coal-black dwarven variety. "There you go," I said. "Have fun."

"Something tells me you already know how this will end," Anders said, picking up the pint and eyeing the thick liquid suspiciously. He sniffed it and made a face. It was brave of him, I could smell it from where I sat. I was told dwarven ale was an acquired taste. I gave it my best shot, and had managed to acquire the ability to keep a pint down without decorating the floor, but couldn't claim anything that even remotely approached enjoyment from it.

"Do I? I suppose if you know what I'm thinking you'd already know what's going to happen."

He went to sip from the glass and pulled it back at the last second. "Roland, why don't you go first?" Anders said, handing it down the table. We were offered a chance to dine with the king, but even I could see he had no actual desire to share a meal with any of us. Good thing, too. Nug was sloppy food for most people, with the way we ate we'd be lucky to get away from here without sauce drenching armor from neck to hips.

I quickly made a plate, adding extra sauce. Oghren had commented that it was good served like that as a way to torment Morrigan once, but I had to admit, he was right.

"Sweet Lady of Mercy!" I heard from the other end of the table, followed by coughing. Roland had, apparently, braved the ale.

"It can't be _that_ bad," Arthur said, grabbing the pint before it spilled. After taking a small sip he made a face, opening and closing his mouth. "Right," he said after regaining the ability to speak, "it is that bad."

Rose went next, and discreetly spit into her napkin after while gagging.

Caitlin decided she would take a shot, offering "I've never been here before, might as well." Her response was to actually dart across the room and get sick over a railing into a lava stream.

"Your turn," she said, handing it off to Anders.

"Hm. You know, I don't think I'm as curious now." Anders slid the glass towards the center of the table.

"Oh no," Roland said, shoving the glass back. "This was _your_ idea, mage. Drink."

"I don't have to take that from you," Anders said, shoving the glass away again. "I'm the senior Warden here."

"It _was_ your idea," I reminded him.

"I hate you," Anders replied.

"No you don't, you're completely in love with me. Now drink your ale." I sat back with a grin.

"I haven't seen you try any," Anders said, now holding the pint and eyeing it warily as though the ale would jump out and attack him.

"I'll split whatever's left with Oghren," I volunteered before digging back into my food. "Come on, lunch is getting cold. This stuff is fantastic."

Anders shrugged, not wanting to be shown up by everyone at the table and took a sip. He calmly set the glass down. "Not bad," he said. I could see his jaw twitch and knew he was fighting to keep his expression calm. He didn't win the fight and doubled over coughing and gagging. "Right, I lied. That's horrible. What's in there: sulfur and fungus?"

"That's exactly it," Oghren said, pouring half of the remaining brew into an empty glass. "Must be a good batch if you could tell from one sip."

We each picked one glass up, offering a brief toast of "Atrasta nal tunsha" as they clinked.

The ale was, if anything, _worse_ than I remembered. And I remembered it being one of the foulest things I'd ever tasted, second only to darkspawn blood. I managed to choke it down, though. Oghren offered a hearty belch once his half was gone, I could only manage a grimace. "Said I'd drink it," I offered after a moment once I was sure it wouldn't come back up. "Not that I'd enjoy it."

Once everyone had recovered from the ale we quickly finished off the nug meat, slopping up sauce from our plates with chunks of bread. "The ale nearly scared me off all the food and drink here, but this is actually pretty good," Roland offered.

"Good? This is amazing. It's like a rabbit and a pig fell in love and someone cooked their young just for us," Anders said before taking another bite. "I could eat this every day," he added before even bothering to swallow.

After lunch we headed back to the arena for the second round of battles. These seemed far more promising to me. The crowd was just as big, but rowdier, and the fighters were using more unconventional techniques. Someone well trained was great, but if they only knew how to fight someone with the same training following the same rules they wouldn't last long.

Finally it was over and we met the top five from each match in one of their practice rooms. Anders and I sat on a bench watching the Wardens go against the recruits. I paired them against people with different skills just to see if they could handle it. Arthur sent someone away after he and Rose had both managed to defeat her. I signaled for Roland and Caitlin to get rid of their partners, too, leaving us with seven. Oghren was shaking hands with his opponent, grinning. "How come they don't fight," he asked, gesturing to us.

Oghren laughed in response. "No such thing as a practice _spell_," Anders supplied. "Plus, Maggie would end up killing someone. I'm mostly a healer, but she's turned killing into an art form."

"I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," I replied, kissing Anders on the cheek.

"_Really_?" he said. "If that tops the list I have work to do." I had to admit, my fighting style didn't lend itself well to sparring. I worked by immobilizing everything around me as fast as I could so I would be able to kill them one at a time, or with large scale spells that ripped into whole groups of enemies at a time. Watching me freeze people solid wouldn't exactly show us anyone's potential.

"_Her_?" the dwarf asked, not bothering to hide his shock. "She's not even wearing real armor!" I smiled in response. Most dwarves didn't consider anything armor unless it came off a smith's forge.

"True, not steel. I liked the idea of wearing armor made from something I spent two years of my life cursing every day, though." I said in response.

"Dragon?" he asked, looking closer.

"Archdemon," I replied with a grin, earning myself a respectful nod. I stood up. "But, if you insist, sure. Oghren, make it fair fight."

Oghren nodded and sent three other fighters to the middle where they joined me and the first man

"I'm not fighting with a brand," one of the newcomers said.

"Then get out," I replied quickly.

"What? You can't be serious! I'm the second son of House--"

"Don't care. It doesn't matter," I said before he could finish. "You come with us and you're just Warden, no family name and no title. I'm a busy woman. There's a stack of paperwork as tall as me waiting for us when we get home, we've got talking darkspawn still roaming around who need killing, and the Grand Cleric of Ferelden wants my head on a pike. I don't have time to hand hold someone who think they're above others until they get their head out of their ass." I looked at everyone else. "Will this be a problem for anyone else? Just admit it now and save us all some time." He stormed out and was quickly followed by a woman who looked at us like we told her she'd have to Orlesian kiss a genlock.

"Good riddance," Oghren said after they were gone. "Would've been fun to see their faces when they met everyone at home, though." I couldn't stop myself from laughing at that.

"Why would anyone so concerned about titles want to join an order where we're _forbidden_ to hold titles or inherit property?" Anders mused, shaking his head. "Makes no sense." No one seemed to have a response to that, but a few people snickered.

"Well, _I'll_ fight anyone," one of the other men said, stepping forward. "And I've never seen a mage in action. Should be interesting." Since only one recruit was left out Oghren sent her over as well.

"Maggie," Anders said before we could start, "no fire, stick to spells you mastered before you turned ten years and I'll heal anyone who falls."

"I made third level in destruction at ten years," I replied. It wasn't as impressive as it sounded since I came to the tower younger than most people. I was a few years younger than everyone else in my class, sure, but I'd been studying as long as the rest of them. I would have probably been one of the youngest harrowings if I hadn't proven myself completely incompetent when it came to the creation school of magic, which meant that instead of being the prodigy everyone seemed to think I was, I actually spent a few more years preparing and studying than the average apprentice. Not that anyone would listen to me at this point.

"Well _that's_ scary," Anders said, shaking his head. I only rolled my eyes. He'd mastered every creation spell known in far less time than the six years those took me. Even other mages seemed to find those of us who focused on the elemental spells a bit unsettling, though. "Stick to first and second level." I nodded in agreement.

I wrapped the blade of each dagger in a rag and spun them around so they were backwards, trusting the gloves of my armor to keep the wrapped blades from cutting into my hands. "I can't use the wooden weapons," I explained. "I'd have to drop them every time I cast. These are enchanted so they take the place of a staff."

The four surrounded me, leaving several feet between us. I crouched low casting my shields while I waited for Oghren's signal. As soon as he called "go" I jumped up and froze two of the fighters in place, taking advantage of my increased strength and the height difference to vault behind them, a hand on each of their shoulders, before tapping twice on both of their backs in turn in a safe approximation of a double backstab. Even if it wouldn't have killed them, with four stab wounds in their lungs they wouldn't have been able to fight any further.

"One and two," I called, casting a force field around the first to make it past my frozen shield. Ignoring him, I turned to the woman, casting lightning quickly as I dodged her blade and crossing the hilt of both daggers on her throat before she could recover from the spell. "Three," I said before sending out a wave of energy which knocked the woman behind her back, stunned. I darted over and tapped her throat, calling "four" before she could shake off the effects of the mind blast. Turning to the man in the force field I was just in time to see the spell dissolve as he lunged forward, getting me across the calf with a practice weapon. In the interest of fairness I dropped to the ground before I froze him, following it with a conjured stone that I aimed at the wall behind him so he wouldn't actually shatter. "And five," I finished, climbing back to my feet while Anders healed everyone of their frost burn. People weren't as susceptible to cold as darkspawn, and dwarves even less so when it came to magical frost, but it certainly wasn't fun.

Once everyone was recovered we bowed to each other. "I can see why you were named commander," the man who questioned me said. "But I did get you there."

"You did," I agreed. "That's why I dropped before I cast another spell."

"You're saying you would keep fighting with a leg half hanging off?"

"Sure," I replied. "Wouldn't have been the first time. In an actual battle you don't usually feel injuries until the fight's done, anyways."

"I'd normally disagree," Anders added, "but we've seen her do that."

"Anyways," I said, brushing the dust from the floor off my armor, "if you're interested I'd like to formally invite all five of you to become Grey Wardens. The six of us have some business to take care of in the Deep Roads before we go, so if you're interested we'll be leaving within a month. Be sure this is what you want, once you're a Warden there is no turning back, and not everyone will make it that far."

"What happens to the people who don't make it?" a woman asked. From her bearing I would guess she was from a higher rung in the complex Orzammar society.

"They…" I paused, not sure how to say it without revealing to much. "They do not become Grey Wardens," I finished lamely. At least revealing the Calling wouldn't be a problem. Since this is where we came everyone in Orzammar already knew. They honored the old Wardens with a ceremony and saw them off with cheers and salutes.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound at all creepy," one of the casteless women said with a chuckle. "We all know how that works, though. I'll risk it. How far are you going?"

"Pretty far," I said. "I need to speak with the Legion unit near the Dead Trenches."

"Do you want us to go with you?" someone else asked.

I shook my head. "No, six people will be a big group as it is, eleven and things could get messy. Plus, we're all immune to the darkspawn corruption, you aren't yet." No one could argue with that logic. "Let me get everyone's names," I added, realizing I would need to start doing that and not assuming someone would tell me.

A woman named Tekla introduced herself first, adding "of House Gavorn, but not for much longer, thank the stone!" I had been right about her status, then. The man who had questioned why I wasn't fighting was Brinjar, Warrior caste from what I gathered, but he didn't say what house. Runi and Helka were the two casteless woman, both letting out occasional squeals of excitement. Othmar was last, and he commented about how now he wouldn't have to stand over a forge being berated for his poor smithing. After writing down everyone's address I invited them to join us in the tavern that evening, and promised we would find them on our return from the Deep Roads.

"Good bunch," Oghren observed when they left.

I nodded in agreement. "I've got a good feeling about them."

"So… drinking again tonight?" Anders asked. "We're not leaving tomorrow?"

"Day after. Tomorrow I'm going to the Shaperite to get copies of every map they have of the Deep Roads, and I'd like to check with Runi and Helka and see if they need anything by way of supplies. I didn't know if asking them here would embarrass them."

"May want to check with all of them, actually," Oghren said. "Well, Brinjar is fine, but Othmar's young, he would still be living with his folks, and if they aren't happy about his fighting he may not have much."

"And Tekla?"

"House Gavorn isn't as bad as most, they're pledged to the Aiducans who are as modern as the nobles get, but a lot of them still get real twitchy about letting their daughters fight. She should be fine, her gear today looked all right, but you never know. And if they don't like her joining us instead of raising their status with a good marriage, well, they could just make sure she leaves with nothing but the clothes on her back."

"I'll just check on everyone, then," I said. "Same could be said for Brinjar, warrior caste or no. Most parents wouldn't be happy about their child rushing off to be a Warden."

After we cleaned up in the palace and I changed into a comfortable set of robes the six of us headed back to the Commons to get dinner. Commandeering the biggest table by the stage, I ordered pitchers of ale and huge helpings of bread and roasted nug. The two casteless women were the first to arrive, their eyes wide at the sight of our table sagging under the food and drink. "Sit," Anders ordered. "Eat. Drink. That's one of the best parts of being a Warden. No worries about where the next meal comes from!"

"Well, _now_ it is," I said, laughing as they tentatively made up plates.

"People go hungry on the surface?" Helka, asked.

I nodded. "I did for a lot of the blight. We tried to hunt, but we were fighters, not hunters, so that wasn't always successful."

"You know about the Circle, right?" Anders asked them.

She nodded but looked unsure. "That's where mages live?"

"That's where mages are _locked up_," he corrected her. "When you display magic as a child they take you away and stick you in the tower for life, never to see home or family again." As expected, they both looked horrified by this. "Exactly," Anders said. "I wasn't too happy with that. So I ran away. Several times, in fact. They'd catch me, and as soon as I was out of solitary confinement I'd be looking for a new way out. When I did escape it was with just the clothes on my back. Mages have no money. I stayed as far from towns as I could so I wouldn't get caught, slept in the woods, that sort of thing. Tree bark, I found, isn't exactly food. Nor is grass." Anders seemed to draw in on himself after saying this; shoulders slumped as he sipped ale. I leaned my head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Hunger is a fair trade for freedom," he eventually said. "But then, the last time I was captured the templars decided to stop at Vigil's Keep for the night. Bad luck for them, very good luck for me." After saying that his demeanor changed completely, the slumped shoulders replaced with his usual cocky stance and light returning to his eyes. With the grin back in place Anders raised a glass to me before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"So mages are kind of the casteless of the surface?" Runi asked.

"Nah," Rose supplied. "That's elves." Caitlin raised her glass to that and the two shared a brief toast. "Mages are… maybe like the Legion of the Dead, but without the 'fight to the death' bit. Respected and feared, but not a part of society at all. Totally separate, and when you become one it's like you've already died. But all I know about the legion is what Sigrun's told me, so I may have the wrong idea."

"That's what most parents say," I offered. "If their child shows signs and no one knows they tell the neighbors that they died. It's less embarrassing for them."

"I really wish we could find your family," Anders said. "See how embarrassed they are of their mage daughter now."

"Screw them," I muttered after drinking more ale. "I don't care anymore. Besides, you saw West Hill. No one left there."

"That place was creepy," Caitlin added. "I guess it was never quite the same there after that big battle against Orlais, but now it's even worse. I don't even think people will bother rebuilding this time."

"We'll bypass it on the way home. Head straight east once we clear Lake Calenhad instead of traveling along the coast. It'll be faster."

The rest of the recruits had joined us by now, several conversations taking place across the large table. I was glad to see they were all speaking together as well as with us. "Tomorrow," I announced, "I'm taking all of you shopping. I want to make sure you're well equipped before we leave. Plus, it's winter on the surface now, so you'll all need cloaks and something warm for under your armor."

Tekla and Brinjar both demurred, saying they would be fine. Runi looked extremely relieved. "If anyone needs _anything_ please let me know. Weisshaupt takes good care of us, it's not a problem." Conversation resumed, with several discussions going on about what might be needed.

"We should have a drinking contest," Anders announced after we'd been in the tavern for several hours.

"Now you're taking, mage!" Oghren cheered in agreement. Maker's breath, not that. We weren't even in a private room! I could only imagine how it would end. We might as well take bets on who tried to swim in lava first.

"I was thinking we should make Roland sing more," I said quickly, hoping to distract them from this disaster in the making.

"Liar," Anders replied, but it was too late. Roland was already climbing the stage, bowing to applause that didn't actually exist. I suspect surface music wasn't too popular here, but that didn't stop him from launching into song.

The Wardens quickly ended up taking over the Tapsters stage. Once Roland could be pulled down several of the recruits took turns. Runi and Helka coaxed Brinjar to join them for a love ballad, while Tekla loudly and enthusiastically launched very ribald pub song as soon as they were finished. Rose played accompaniment for Caitlin as she sang an unfamiliar lament, judging by the snatches of lyrics I could hear above the crowd it was about the Exhalted March on the Dales from the elven point of view. Anders and Arthur even dragged me on stage to join them in one of those miserable war ballads about Ferelden's 'glorious dead.' This one actually made use of that phrase in the final verse, no less. "My mother used to sing that one," Anders supplied as we returned to our seats.

"Mine too," Arthur said.

"I learned it from Loghain. Something tells me they were better singers than he was. Or me, for that matter."

Arthur said something complementary and completely untrue about my singing but Anders laughed. "True enough!" he said. "Singing is not your strongest skill, my dear."

"Hey, you don't have to tell me. Alistair once threatened to smash Leliana's lute if she didn't stop encouraging me."

"Andraste's bloody sword, is he kidding me?" Rose suddenly muttered. Anders and I cut off our conversation to see what she was taking about. She was watching the stage with open-mouthed shock. Roland was currently halfway through an old song from the Orlesian occupation, one of the many that described Ferelden as though it was a woman so they could be sung without reprisal. Something told me he wasn't trying to make a patriotic statement since he was staring right at her.

"Stop looking," Arthur advised. "You'll only encourage him."

"I think it's sweet," I said.

Rose gave me a dirty look. "You would," she said. "People like you always want everyone else to pair up, too."

"People like me?"

"The both of you," she said. "Whenever one of my friends got married the first thing they'd do is start introducing me to all the single men in their husband's families. Like if you have to be stuck with someone you want everyone else in the same boat."

"I'm not _stuck"_ I protested.

"Sure you are," Anders said. "Maybe not _legally_. Still stuck with me, though."

"The word stuck makes it sound like we should be miserable," I countered.

"I'm still not convinced you aren't," Rose said. "I figure everyone hides it so the rest of us don't realize anything until it's too late and we're yelling at some fool who drinks his paycheck away. I bet you're all bickering and moping about being mages behind closed doors."

"Sorry to disappoint," I said. "No moping, no bickering."

"There may be _some_ yelling behind closed doors," Anders added. "Or shouting. Although I wouldn't say either of us are unhappy when that's going on. Closer to the opposite."

She rolled her eyes and I giggled. "You know," I pointed out, "Roland only seems to drink when we all go out together. And he doesn't _get_ a paycheck any more than you do."

"See! There it is," she all but shouted, as if I'd confirmed some suspicion. "Trying to pair everyone else up. That infernal matchmaking." Rose pointed a finger at me, jabbing it in the air as she spoke. "I'm on to you, it won't work."

* * *

_A/N: Sweet Maker, 80 reviews? Talk about feeling loved! I'm starting to think that, once this is over, I may do a prequel of sorts following Maggie through the blight itself. Not sure if that would be of interest to anyone, though. Also, Darkspawn Chronicles? An HOUR. I was done with it in an HOUR. Including the download time. I can only console myself with the knowledge that a new Dragon Age game should be out by spring. Giving gifts to my darkspawn companions was funny, though._


	22. Are all mages allergic to subtlety?

Anders kicked our bedroom door shut behind him. We'd left everyone in Tapsters, with a few sovereigns at the bar for their tab and a warning that the staff should let them know before they got too close to spending it all. I stumbled across the room and sat on the bed, giggling as he made a show of locking the door and shoving a chair under the knob.

"Expecting trouble?"

"We don't have good luck in palaces," he said in response.

"Oh, come on," I said. "This is Orzammar. Any templar or priest is likely to be tossed over a railing before they even get to the Diamond Quarter."

"Well… maybe I just don't want anyone to bother us when they drink through all the money you left and go on a rampage across the Commons."

"You're being paranoid."

"You're the one who picked these people. I wouldn't be surprised if we woke up to find out someone covered the Shaperite with drawings of griffons and misspelled Warden slogans." I grinned at the thought, but doubted anything even remotely close to that would happen. "Maker's breath, you'd almost enjoy that, wouldn't you?" Anders laughed. "You looked… _proud_ of the idea."

"Enthusiasm among the recruits would be nice," I said, trying to stay neutral. "But I'm pretty sure they can all spell." I didn't _want_ them to cause destruction, but I'd love it if they were that thrilled about being Wardens.

"You are insane," Anders said, staring down at me with a smile on his face. "Completely insane. Now get up."

I stood and gave him a curious look. "What?"

"You'll see. I'm brilliant." I watched as he dragged the mattress off the bed, setting it on the floor. At the foot he added every chair cushion from the room before shifting the blankets around so they were covered.

"Maker's breath, you are," I agreed. I climbed across the ropes of the empty bedframe, laughing with drunken joy, before flopping face down onto our makeshift human-sized bed. "Mmmfhmmrn" I said, burying my face in the pillows.

"What?"

I turned my head so I wasn't speaking directly into a pile of feathers. "I adore you," I repeated. "This is phenomenal. I don't think it's physically possible for me to love you more than I do right now at this moment."

"Has it always been this easy to keep you happy?" he laughed before flopping down next to me. "No, never mind, this is glorious. I didn't realize how unpleasant trying to sleep was yesterday until now."

"See?" I said, shifting to rest my head on his chest.

"I just had the most horrifying thought," Anders said suddenly. "Neither of us are nearly old enough to be so excited by a comfortable place to sleep."

"I'm not," I agreed. "But you might be."

"So says the woman who invented a birthday but told people she turned the same age two years in a row?"

"I did not," I protested. "I'm six and twenty."

"Sure you are," Anders laughed. "You just turned six and twenty a couple months ago, but you also turned six and twenty a couple months after we met."

I sat up trying to sort through the last two years in my mind. "Ohhhh…" I said suddenly, realizing he was right.

"See?" he said, grinning.

"Well," I said, trying to justify my desire not to get any older, "in all fairness, I didn't know how old I was to begin with. I may have turned five and twenty the first time."

"Liar," Anders said simply. He stretched, arching his back. "Today was good," he said finally. "Five isn't a bad number."

"Maybe our luck is changing," I offered.

"Or just going back to normal," he laughed. "I can't believe you fought all five of them at once, though."

"Me neither," I agreed. "I normally wouldn't agree to show off like that. It's not fair for them. I mean, I can freeze people until I want to deal with them."

"Still, it was impressive to see. I don't get to watch you fight often."

I gave him a confused look. "You see me fight constantly. What are you talking about?"

"Not when I can actually pay attention, though." Anders reminded me. "It gave me ideas."

"Oh?" I had no idea where he was going with this, but found myself very anxious to hear this idea.

"I really need to start practicing with a sword. I didn't exactly take it seriously when Nathaniel and Sigrun tried to teach me. The idea of being able to keep fighting without going half crazed on lyrium seems useful."

"Oh," I replied, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice.

"You don't sound happy about that," Anders observed.

"No, no," I insisted. "That's good. Great, in fact."

"Then?"

"I was just expecting something different," I answered with a shrug.

An eyebrow quirked up as Anders grinned. "Maker's breath, Maggie, you have a filthy mind." He laughed at my blush. "And yes, several other ideas did occur to me, but unfortunately you changed out of your armor and into robes before dinner."

At that point I reminded him that armor could, in fact, be just as easily put back on as it was taken off, and Anders remembered we had rope in one of our packs. "Whose turn?" he asked, holding out the rope.

"Mine!" I said, snatching it from him with a giggle.

"Could today get any better?" Anders chuckled, tossing his robes aside.

"Isn't that the plan?" I replied.

I slept much better than I had the previous night, but I can't claim I slept for any longer.

* * *

The next day, after taking the recruits shopping and treating them to lunch I dragged Roland with me to the Shaperite. As the most accurate map reader we had on the team he got to help me match the deep roads to our surface maps.

"So how do we match these?" Roland asked, copying a deep roads map to the scale of our spare Ferelden one."

"Orzammar and Gwaren should be on both," I suggested. "I read that the surface Gwaren is named for an old underground city it sits on top of. King Maric and Loghain used an entrance to the Deep Roads there to sneak past Orlesians during the war."

"A practical use for history?" Roland mused. "Never would have thought of that."

Some of the dwarven maps noted the location of Lake Calenhad, presumably to keep someone from digging too far up and drowning them all, which made things even simpler. Eventually our spare map of Ferelden was covered with dark lines representing the deep roads, markers of the old fallen cities and thags, and even the known breaks where the deep roads could be accessed from the surface without going through Orzammar.

"So, what is the plan with all this?" he finally asked me as we looked down at the new markings.

"Nothing right now," I said. "But eventually? We trace out every line topside and make sure no openings to the surface are around. Doors we reinforce and monitor so we know if the darkspawn break through, since hopefully some day they will be used again, cave-ins we close off."

"That sounds…" he made a face.

"Boring?" I agreed. "Yeah. This is a long-term plan, though. I mean, we could even set it up so when we travel we go over the deep roads, instead of making special trips. Not something we need to worry about now, though." I rolled the maps up and tucked them into my pack, along with a couple paper-wrapped sticks of lead the Shaperite had given me, so we could annotate them as we traveled without digging up an inkwell and pen. "Besides, having a complete map of the deep roads will be handy forever. I don't know why no one's ever thought to do this in the first place."

Leaving the Shaperite we headed to the Commons, where I saw Anders and Oghren haggling with a merchant. Anders waved a hand at me and we went over to join them. "Get anything good?" I asked.

"Hm?" he said before handing the merchant a stack of gold and pocketing something. "No, nothing really. New amulets." Anders had a well-documented love of anything enchanted. He sometimes wore several amulets at once, and rings on nearly every finger. Even his earring, which I assumed was some sort of fashion statement, was actually enchanted to improve his healing ability. "No one sells robes here, I looked everywhere. Even the store we should pretend doesn't exist in dust town."

"Not surprising, really," I pointed out. Surface visitors in Orzammar were still rare, and usually just consisted of the occasional merchant or small bands of Ferelden troops sent by Alistair to help reclaim the deep roads.

"True," he agreed. "But I'm down to two sets, since you decided to wreck one of them. I can't imagine we'll be doing much laundry over the next couple weeks."

I had an idea. "Well," I said, grinning, "I think since we expect things to be difficult, you may want to consider a wardrobe change."

Anders narrowed his eyes at me. "What are you suggesting?" he asked suspiciously.

"Fighting darkspawn in the close quarters of the deep roads," I mused aloud. "Nothing to keep you safe but a thin bit of enchanted cloth… I'm up nights worrying, you know."

"This is revenge, isn't it?" he asked me.

"Revenge? I'm only thinking of your safety." He snorted in response. "Come on, let's go get you fitted. We can even get it enchanted like your robes were, the dwarves are even better at enchantments than the tranquil."

"This is one of those things I should just go along with since you'll get what you want in the end no matter what I say, isn't it?"

"Pretty much," I agreed.

The armor merchant who always reminded me that he accepted cash or trade did, in fact, have several human-sized sets of light armor. He adjusted two of them to fit Anders, politely ignoring the constant complaints. I tuned him out, deciding to instead think about what a shame it was that robes covered his legs most of the time.

"Are you even listening to me?" he snapped, waving a hand in front of my face.

"You do _not_ look ridiculous," I assured him, pulling myself back to reality. "That's dragon wing; do you know how many people would kill for armor like that?" He only rolled his eyes in response. "We can get it dyed if you want," I finally offered, which seemed to appease him.

"We can even paint it seventeen different colors, add some fur trim and a few hundred more buckles if it would make you more comfortable," Roland offered. "Are all mages allergic to subtlety or something?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I'm wearing armor."

"You're wearing armor covered in silver griffins made out of an _archdemon_," he replied. "It practically _glows. _You couldn't be any less subtle if you added a cape."

I glanced over at the mirror, turning to visualize a cape on the armor. "You know, that might not be a horrible idea," I said. "It would cover those scars on my back. Add a bit of color, too."

"Green," Anders said. "To bring out the color of your eyes." I nodded in agreement. "Short, though. Long would just be silly."

"Agreed. I should ask Wade about it when we get home. Maybe get a big griffin on it."

"I'd do a row of small griffins at the hem, instead of one big one at the middle," he added.

"You're a genius," I replied, smiling. "Oooh, I bet I could have actual gems used to make the eyes on them, too. And some nice scrollwork embroidered near the top."

"Now look at what you've done," Oghren sighed, glaring at Roland.

"Andraste's flaming sword, I wasn't _serious!"_ Roland gasped.

Anders and I met each other's eyes and dissolved in laughter. "Come on," I protested once I'd regained my composure and wiped my eyes. "You can't believe we were serious, either!"

"A cape would be a _horrible_ idea," Anders added.

"Never smart to wear anything the darkspawn can grab onto," I pointed out. "Even if it does look good." Anders nodded in agreement.

"Right," he said. "I'm just going to pretend you stopped talking after you agreed it was a horrible idea."

* * *

I double checked my pack the next morning. Torches, rope, several different kinds of small explosives, enough health poultices to bring Andraste herself back to life, and enough lyrium to keep the Circle of Magi running for a month, as well as spare armor and a robe just in case.

After a quick breakfast we walked in silence to the Deep Roads entrance. When I was here last the guards were stationed within sight of the commons. Help from the surface had pushed the darkspawn back since then, though. The large door was attended by a single man who only nodded at us, offering a brief greeting of "Wardens," before returning to a book. The passageway showed signs of recent repairs and cleaning. The warm orange glow of lava reached almost all the way to the cavernous ceiling.

We reached the guards by lunchtime, arriving just as they were beginning their meal. After checking our pass we joined them. I never quite understood the need for the passes. I mean, if I was here for my Calling would they hold me back because I didn't have a connection to a noble who could authorize my admittance to the deep roads?

"You may be able to move the barricade back," I advised before we set out. "There aren't any darkspawn in this area."

"Planning to," one advised. "Cave in on the roads up ahead, once that's cleared we're moving there."

"Is it passable still?" I asked, wondering if I would need the explosives this soon.

"Not on the roads, but there is a side tunnel that'll get you around it eventually." Roland sighed at this and fished out his map and marking-stick.

"I'll take the lead," I offered as we set off. "Anders, you walk about halfway so we can conserve our energy and share the lighting duty. Oghren, you bring up the rear." I hoped that would also keep us from getting ambushed. Oghren and Anders were able to sense darkspawn better than the rest of the group. Among us only Caitlin was walking in blind, she wouldn't be able to sense them for a couple months yet.

We continued in silence for the most part. At one point I could hear Roland start to sing softly until Oghren quickly hushed him. "Bad enough darkspawn can sense us," he reminded the warrior, "you want to make sure every giant spider and deepstalker knows we're here, too?"

I sensed darkspawn a few times and routed us around them as best I could. Encountering one group would alert all of them, the longer we could go without that the better. We went several days like this, moving in silence, sleeping without setting up tents, and managing to keep hidden. We had already killed more spiders and deepstalkers than I could count, but the darkspawn were unaware of us as far as I could tell.

"Oghren, what time is it?" I asked quietly, hoping his stone-sense would tell him. We had reached a split in the network of natural caverns and I wasn't sure which way to take. Darkspawn were present in both directions.

"Late," he provided. "We should think about making camp for the night in an hour or so. Should be able to hit Carridan's Cross by then."

"Maggie," Anders spoke up, caution in his voice.

"I know," I said. "We're screwed either way. I'm trying to figure out which would be easier." I closed my eyes and focused. "Left," I finally said. Everyone unsheathed weapons and we proceeded on cautiously. I made the right decision: we soon encountered a group of only five darkspawn, standard genlocks, who found themselves dead from arrows and magic before they completely realized we were on them. I hurried everyone forward. Hopefully the surprise would be enough that the rest of the horde wouldn't catch on quickly. Stepping out of the cavern to Carridan's Cross I looked around. The ground was dusty, the darkspawn apparently having abandoned this area. I could still sense them in the distance, though.

"So, camp in the open and leave ourselves an out, or camp somewhere hidden so we don't end up surrounded on all sides?" Anders asked, looking around.

I chewed on a nail, ignoring the taste of dust and dirt, trying to decide. "Hidden," Oghren answered before I could respond. "I say we sleep in two shifts, give ourselves a strong watch."

I really needed to convince Oghren to drink less. When he was sober the man could be near genius. He was one of the few among us who had formal training in tactics, after all.

I was on the second shift watch, casting a very dim light over the area. I sat near Anders, who fell asleep with his head on my lap. Oghren was softly telling Caitlin how the dwarves lost the deep roads to the darkspawn. I held my hand, gesturing for quiet. "Do you hear that?"

Oghren glanced over, rolling his eyes at the sight of Anders snoring on my lap. "Fighting, further off."

"No darkspawn, though," I agreed. I could hear the faint sound of metal on metal and occasional hints of battle shouts. If it was close enough to hear I would have already sensed the darkspawn. "How long since they went down?" I asked, looking at the sleeping Wardens. I had used a basic sleep spell on all of them. I figured we would all toss and turn without getting any rest down here otherwise. Anders had done the same for the first group.

"Long enough," Oghren answered. "We would be getting them up in," he paused, putting his palms to the ground. "Maybe an hour."

"Stone sense?" Oghren nodded. "I wish you could teach that to people." He only laughed in response while I cast a revitalize spell on everyone. "Fighting," I whispered when they were awake. "Not darkspawn, don't know who. Let's go see."

Keeping the light from my staff dim I led everyone down a sharply angled tunnel, one of the many naturally occurring branches off the abandoned roads. "More spiders," Roland whispered when we got closer. I listened and could hear a faint clicking sound over the swords.

"Must be a lot of them," I guessed.

"Fewer fighters now," Caitlin observed. "Less sword noises."

"Well," I said, speeding up, "I guess we'd better go save whoever they are." I started picking off spiders before their opponents even came into view. Most were the standard variety, which was bad enough, but I saw a few of the bright green venomous ones. They rushed towards us from around a corner, seemingly without end. "Anders, we need a storm," I shouted. "Archers keep us clear, everyone else get back."

He joined me at the front of the line, already humming with magical energy. I raised my arm, concentrating as the spell built. I fought the urge to release the spell and forced myself to focus, continuing to let the power build. Finally, knowing I had nothing else in me, I aimed at the tunnel ahead of us. Snow began to swirl through the cavern, catching the spiders in a whirlwind of ice and cold. A second later I saw Anders move, casting his own spell. Lightning arched and sparked from one spider to the next, their shrill cries of agony filling the cavern.

"Now what?" Rose asked me after bringing down the last spider that tried to interrupt our casting.

"Wait it out," I said. "They'll keep rushing at us; hopefully we can actually pass through soon without being overwhelmed."

"Big spells are so much _fun_," Anders said, watching the storm with a grin. "We should do that more often."

We both quickly drank lyrium potions as the spells wound down. Gesturing everyone forward I picked my way around the dead spiders through the snow that had settled. Already melting, it was less than a foot deep by the time we reached the spell's far border. "Well," I said, looking over the next cavern. "That's unexpected."

We were too late to help the spiders' first targets. Two bodies lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by several bloody spider corpses. Most of the live spiders must have come at us and been caught in the storm, or fled the cold.

Anders kneeled next to them. "A bit out of their jurisdiction, aren't they?" he asked. I glanced at the full templar armor and nodded.

"Why would your surface church send people _here_?" Oghren asked, looking at them. "Makes no sense."

"And only two of them," I added. "That's suicide."

"Clearly," Anders said with a shrug looking at the bodies.

"Might as well search them," Rose said. "See if they're carrying anything that might explain why they were here."

"Or who they are," Caitlin added. "We could notify the Chantry when we get home."

The search didn't yield any information, but they did both wear Chantry amulets with their names engraved on the back which I pocketed. They could be passed on to the Revered Mother in Amaranthine on our way home.

"Seems… wrong to just leave them here like this," Arthur observed.

"Not much we can do," I reminded him. "Stone's too hard for burial. Burning them would be… a bad idea." I shook my head looking them over. The poor bastards had no idea what they were going up against when they came here. Templars were decent fighters, true, but even a Warden didn't enter the Deep Roads in a group that small. Not if they had any hope of walking out again, at least.

"Why?" he asked. "Because they're templars?"

"Because they're _fresh_," Anders answered. "We'd be blinded by the smoke, and that's if we didn't choke on it first." He shook his head. "I may not like templars but I'm not heartless, you know."

I nodded in agreement. "We could drop them in the lava," I offered. "That would burn them, eventually." There were murmurs of agreement and Arthur hefted one of the bodies onto his shoulder. Roland took up the other and we walked to a chasm at the edge of the cavern.

"Should we say something?" Rose asked. I couldn't remember what priests said at memorial services.

I glanced at Anders and he shrugged. "I don't know the funeral verses, but I can come up with something fitting." After a moment he recited a verse of the chant. "_Draw your last breath, my friends, cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be Forgiven._"

"So let it be," all of us, save Oghren, repeated automatically as Roland and Arthur heaved their burdens over the side.

"Right," I said. "We're all very nice people. Now that we've confirmed it I say we move on before the huge group of darkspawn to the south that we've managed to avoid for days decides to come and investigate all this."

"Fantastic plan," Oghren agreed. "I _could_ take on a hundred of those bastards by myself but I'd hate to embarrass the rest of you."

I snorted. "A hundred? I could kill that many _all at once_."

"Magic's cheating," he replied with a nod. I only rolled my eyes as we walked on.

We reached an immense cavern after several hours walking. Small bands of darkspawn had attacked us repeatedly along the way. I assumed they were advance scouts and planned for the worst. They had to know we were here by now.

"What is this place?" I asked. It wasn't somewhere I had been before. Since we skipped Ortan Thaig in favor of a more direct route I didn't recognize anything.

Roland shuffled through the papers. "Kobaliman Thaig?" he answered, sounding unsure. Oghren inspected runes carved into a wall near the entrance.

"Aye," he said. "Kobaliman. Almost to the dead trenches."

"We dig in somewhere easily defensible. They'll be on us soon. We won't endear ourselves to the Legion if we bring a hundred uninvited guests with us."

"How much time do we have?" Roland asked, looking nervous.

"Hour," I answered. "Maybe less. How are we on arrows?"

"Tons," Rose answered.

"How about there?" Arthur pointed. A tall building with a steep, narrow staircase.

"We'll be penned in," Anders pointed out. "No way out if we get overwhelmed."

"That's the only place where we won't get surrounded on all sides, though," I said. "You can stand back with the archers and cast area spells or heal, everyone else can handle whatever breaks through, and I can single out harder targets and freeze them so they can be shattered."

He checked his lyrium supply. "This is going to be fun." We hustled over and mounted the stairs. Near the top I cast a quick fireball, burning away the webs that covered them. Once in position we readied weapons and potions and waited.

"Not much longer," Oghren said.

"I'm starting to sense them," Rose added. "That must mean they're close."

"Wardens?" a panic-stricken voice called out. I looked around, not able to see the source.

"Over here," I called back, increasing the light from my staff. "Head towards the stairs!" Heavy footsteps approached us, quickly increasing in volume.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" I heard someone call. "I thought I was dead for sure!" A man with dried blood caked on the side of his face and hair limped towards us. Even in the dim light I could recognize his armor. Another templar.

* * *

_A/N: __Ah, mages. They really are the peacocks of Thedas. _

_I think this may be the longest I've gone between updates! It was like the second my finals ended I completely ran out of steam. Hopefully that strange bit of writers block has passed. Thanks to my reviews! I love the input. And I mentioned the prequel idea as something long term, since I'm actually replaying Origins now going through trying to make the choices Maggie would. I'd say this is only at the halfway point or so.  
_


	23. That does explain your command style

The templar climbed the stairs, dropping to his knees halfway up.

"Maker's breath," Anders grumbled before he darted down to heal him.

"Thank you," he said once he was back on his feet.

I looked at him closely. He didn't look familiar, but he was young. I would have already been out of the tower by the time this man took vows. "You're far from home," I observed.

"I am," he agreed. "Ser Ronan," the templar said plainly by way of introduction, crossing his arms in salute. "I can explain everything to you."

"Good, but that will have to wait," I told him. "Company's almost here."

He offered me his hand. "Let me help, Commander." I needed to stop being surprised when people recognized me. I was instantly on guard, but tried to press the worry down, remembering my face and description were known all over Ferelden, and as the only human woman with a group of Wardens it would be obvious who I was. "I swear, I'm not a threat to any of you," he answered quickly, not missing my initial reaction. "I only want to see these beasts destroyed." Oghren met my eyes over his shoulder and shrugged. The man would be insane to try and attack any of us when so outnumbered. But then, religious fanatics were never exactly known for their sound reasoning and sanity. After a brief hesitation I accepted his hand.

"Fine," I agreed. "Stand down with the other warriors." He nodded and lined up next to Roland.

"This is interesting," Anders whispered. "You know, I thought I would be trading the templars for darkspawn, not getting both."

"I'm starting to understand that curse Nathaniel told us about," I admitted. I raised my voice back to a normal tone. "How long do you think we have?"

"Ten minutes, maybe?" Anders replied. "Enough time to get close enough to the entrance to cast a storm. Thin their numbers before they reach us."

I nodded. "Good plan. Rose, Arthur, you're with us just in case we didn't time this right. Everyone else stay ready." I left Oghren with the templar, he caught my eye and nodded in understanding, holding his axe ready. We ran closer to the thaig entrance, stopping where we were still within view of the stairs. "Cutting it close," I warned.

"We can do it," Anders insisted, holding his staff up. I tried to ignore the drumming in my mind from the approaching hoard, focusing on the spell. The staff shook in my hand and I fought to keep it steady. Finally I released the energy, immediately fishing a lyrium potion from my belt pouch. I handed another to Anders, who was resting with his hands on his knees.

"Let's get back," I said. "This may be uglier than usual. I can't fall back on any last resort blood magic with our new visitor here. Best not to mention that," I added. They both nodded in agreement.

We ran back, already hearing cries as the front of the horde hit our storm. "That should stall them," I muttered, sitting down to catch my breath.

"You know," Anders said, "when I said we should cast more big spells I didn't mean right away. Tomorrow would have been good."

"It was your idea," I reminded him.

"True. I just mean I'd like to only have one big group of beasts trying to kill us in a day."

"I've never seen anything like that," the templar gasped, observing the snow and lightning blanketing the entrance to the thaig. I wasn't surprised. Spells like that were only cast on rare occasions in the tower, just enough to make sure you knew how, with a templar on hand to cut them off almost immediately. Our classes hadn't even told us how deadly the two spells could be in combination, we figured it out by accident while fighting the architect.

I ignored him for now. "Everyone get ready," I said, drawing my daggers. The agonized howls of darkspawn as they charged into our storm grew louder.

"Will that drive them off?" I could hear Ser Ronan ask someone.

"No," Roland answered. "It'll kill some, but they'll keep charging. They're not smart enough to wait it out."

"Without an archdemon to lead them the normal darkspawn are barely smart enough to be called animals," I provided. "Darkspawn will chase someone right over a cliff without stopping. All they know is slaughter." I looked over, the pile of bodies was growing, but the storm had already started to die down. "They'll be on us soon," I warned. "Anders, you're a genius. Only sixty or so are left."

"_Only_ sixty?" the templar asked. As if on cue we all laughed at that, save Caitlin who only managed a small smile. I cast my shields and made my way to the front of the group, crouched and waiting, glad the spell lasted long enough for most of my energy to return.

"Two ogres in the lead," Oghren said.

"You and me," I replied quickly, tapping my blades together in nervous anticipation. The lumbering giants came into view and I grinned. They were shoulder to shoulder, it would have been the perfect chance to freeze them with one spell if only I hadn't just drained most of my magic on the storm and sheilds. Oghren charged forward, howling in berserker rage, with me at his heels. He swung at the first while I dropped to my knees, sliding across the stone floor between the legs of the second. Jumping up, I sunk both daggers high into his back and began to climb, one hand over the other, a move I had seen Zevran do once before. The ogre began to twist and turn, hoping to throw me off. I held on to the blades, my gloves preventing my hands from slipping, giggling as he spun around.

My amusement was cut short when a shriek appeared next to me. It began to claw and bite my legs, attempting to pull me down. I screamed and tried to hold on to my position with one hand while freezing it with the other. Eventually I managed, sending it toppling with a kick and resuming my climb. When I reached the ogre's shoulders I quickly slit its throat. It tried to howl but only managed to force more blood out of the wound, drenching my hand. Slamming the blade into the monster's chest so I could hold on I sank the other dagger hilt deep into its eye. I pulled both blades free and jumped clear as it fell, wincing as I touched the ground.

"Emissary," Anders called. "Left flank, Maggie."

"I'll get it," the templar responded. "Commander, get back," he added, running towards the darkspawn mage. Realizing his plan I darted away as quickly as I could, ignoring the aching in my legs to make sure I was out of range from his smite attack. I saw white light explode out of the corner of my eye, followed quickly by the emissary's howl of rage. A moment later his head fell to the ground, separated in one clean stroke. I had to admit, it was impressive.

"Maggie, you're injured," Anders shouted.

"Flesh wounds," I called back. "Get them after." Since my pathetic attempts at healing Rose I was trying to keep Anders as far from direct battle as possible, at least until I'd be able to brush up on my own healing. Fortunately he was able to cause just as much damage from a distance as he could up close.

Once out of Ser Ronan's range I went back to fighting. Anders had tossed off several large fireballs not far from us. Staying ahead of them I moved around the darkspawn who made it through, dealing backstabs and spells as I went. Arrows sailed over my head as Rose and Caitlin thinned the number who could reach us.

I heard a grunt next to me and turned, Roland was on his knees, blood covering his face. After shouting for Anders I circled around him, fending off any darkspawn that came close to Roland. A glance around confirmed that everyone else seemed to be holding up. Arthur had just sent a genlock flying with a bash of his shield, laughing as it tumbled legs over head. Oghren was surrounded by three hurlocks, spinning in a circle with his axe, slicing each nearly in half. Even Ser Ronan was holding up to the onslaught, managing to dodge one hurlock while beheading another.

Anders rushed over, poultice in hand, and crouched next to Roland. I could hear him mumbling but didn't listen closely, too focused on keeping darkspawn from getting close to them. A second emissary came at us. I dodged his spells even as he shrugged off mine thanks to a glyph of protection, trying to find an opening to attack. I eventually resorting to grappling with him for his staff, trying to yank it free while alternating between trying to sweep his feet out from under him and kicking him. "Let me," Ser Ronan called.

"No!" I shouted. "Anders is our healer!" A smite would hurt any mage in the area equally. I didn't know how bad Roland's injury was, but I wouldn't risk leaving it to a poultice. That was a lot of blood on his face.

The templar seemed to ignore me, charging towards us. I shouted at him to stop but he kept moving, sword drawn, calling "don't worry" as he ran. I winced and tried to shield Anders so I would take the greater force of the smite while still keeping the darkspawn from reaching either of them. Anders gave me a panicked glance; I met it with one of my own. Instead of calling on his templar powers, though, Ser Ronan simply ran the emissary straight through, yanking the sword up once it was in the darkspawn's chest, blackened mutated organs tumbling to the ground. "I can do more than smite, you know," he said with a grin. I sagged in relief, tossing the emissary's staff aside, but couldn't reply since half a dozen genlocks came up to take the mage's place. I put three in a stasis field and froze the others, slashing one throat and shattering another with stone. Ser Ronan shattered the third with a single massive swing. We took out the others just as quickly once the stasis spell wore off. The templar stayed near us, circling with me around Anders and Roland.

"He's fine," Anders said eventually. "Cracked his skull. _Again_. I'd almost guess he enjoys it."

"Hey, you're not paid to make fun of your patients," Roland protested.

"I'm not paid at all," Anders snorted, casting lightning on a hurlock who got too close. "I love it when they sizzle!" he laughed, throwing off more bolts of energy.

"Keep head-butting and I'm going to make you start wearing a helmet," I warned Roland as I tossed out spells. "You're not a dwarf, human bones aren't made to withstand that." He only grumbled in reply before bashing a hurlock's head in with his shield.

I took down another genlock with a combination of cold and stone, looking around when nothing came up to take his place. Oghren waved as he wiped his axe clean. Arthur was examining a dent in his shield with a frown. Rose and Caitlin were already looting the corpses of their arrows. I couldn't help but cheer when I realized we came out unscathed. "We are _awesome_!"

Anders was checking everyone for injuries. Oghren had a stab wound to his side, but it was shallow. The archers were both fine, nothing had even made it as far as the stairs. Arthur had a scratch mark on his face from a shreck but shrugged it off. "Get it when everyone else is done," he told Anders. "It looks worse than it is."

"This is not a _flesh wound_, Maggie," Anders said, crouching next to me and tossing my demolished greaves aside. "Hand me your dagger."

I did, thinking he was going to use it to cut a bandage. Instead, he reached under my armor and slipped the blade under my leggings, slicing them open from top to bottom. "Hey!" I protested.

"Would you rather take them off and lose a good chunk of your calf in the process?" he asked. "They're ruined anyways."

"You're exaggerating," I protested. I looked down at my leg and shut my mouth quickly. He wasn't exaggerating.

"Right," Anders said, finishing doing the same to the other side of the leggings and tossing them aside. "You won't like this," he warned me, raising his hands. I couldn't help but notice everyone had gathered around to watch with curiosity. Only Ser Ronan sat aside, waiting for us on the stairs. I looked away, not wanting to watch my skin knit itself back together or let everyone see me wince.

"Done," Anders said, finally standing back up. "Good as new."

"You left a few scars," Rose pointed out.

"I did not," Anders said, sounding insulted.

"Werewolf," I answered, pointing to one scar. "Back during the blight. Archdemon," I said, pointing to the other.

"You have the _best_ scars," Anders said, grinning before moving on to heal Arthur's wound.

"Where did the one above your eye come from?" Roland asked.

"That? It's nothing," I said quickly.

"You know, I always wondered," Oghren added. "You've had that for as long as I've known you. Even Alistair didn't know where it came from."

I sighed, realizing they wouldn't relent until I told them. "I got drunk and fell off a table," I admitted. "It was on the way from the tower to Ostagar."

Everyone stared at me for a moment. Anders laughed first, throwing an arm across my shoulders for support. "Maker's breath," he finally said. "That explanation is fantastic for so many different reasons. I can't even begin to list them all."

"What were you doing _on_ a table?" Roland asked between giggles.

"... dancing." I replied, feeling my blush spreading to my ears.

"Oh, well, of course," Arthur replied. "The _obvious_ answer. I suppose if we ask why you were dancing on a table you'll just use the 'I was drunk' explanation."

"_Really_ drunk," I stressed. "_Really really_ drunk."

"I think we need more than that," Rose said, grinning.

"We were at an inn," I explained. "I think it was somewhere in the Southern Bannorn. A bunch of knights and Ash Warriors were there, too. I'd never actually met or even seen people my age who weren't mages or templars. Duncan noticed me staring so he gave me a sovereign, explained how to order a drink, and told me to have fun."

"And apparently you did," she guessed.

"From what I remember I did, once someone talked to me. I had no idea what the procedure was until then, so I just bought an ale and stood around looking like a wide-eyed fool. It took a while, most people see mage robes and run the other way."

"What do you mean? You didn't know how to introduce yourself to someone?" She looked confused.

"Lived in a tower surrounded by nothing but other socially maladjusted mages, remember? I didn't know how normal people acted."

"And you ended up on a table?"

"Not my idea," I stressed. "A couple of the Ash Warriors' new recruits pulled me and one of the female knights up to join them. We were dancing a reel. The table wasn't quite big enough for the step-back bit and we all fell off." They laughed even harder. "Come on," I protested. "We were all heading off to war. What should we have done, played a nice game of queens while drinking tea?"

"Did you tell Duncan?" Anders asked, still snickering.

"Didn't have to," I said. "The crash woke up just about every senior officer in the building. Half of them came downstairs to scream at their people. Duncan just helped me up, handed me a health poultice, and got me a glass of water. Then he reminded me we had a lot of walking to do the next day, laughed, and went back to bed."

"Well, that does explain your command style," Arthur said, which set everyone off again.

I waited for the laughter to die down again. "Um, Wardens?" I said, waving my hands when no one seemed inclined to stop giggling. "The templar? Right over there? Remember?"

"I had managed to forget," Anders groaned. "Why am I expecting the worst?"

"Same reason I am," I said. "Because that's most likely what it is."

"You don't know that," Arthur said. "He might be down here to, um..."

"Spread the Chant to the darkspawn?" I suggested. "Hunt down emissaries as apostates?"

"Yeah, I realized there wasn't a logical reason about halfway through that sentence."

"Right. Let's get this over with. Remember, no one says the M-word." They nodded in agreement and we walked over to where Ser Ronan had been sitting.

"We need to talk," I said, gesturing to the landing at the top of the stairs. Sitting on the landing near our packs, we formed a rough circle with Anders holding his staff up so we had light. "You said you could explain?" I began. "That would be a good place to start."

He nodded. "I took my vows only six months ago," he began. "I was stationed at the Circle of Magi but it didn't work out."

"How so?" I asked.

"I had to witness a Harrowing," he said. "The mage, he didn't pass. I was supposed to cut him down if he failed. I hesitated and the knight-commander had to do it. I _knew_ him, he was a decent person, we had talked a few times. I couldn't just cut his head off!" Anders met my eyes and shrugged. It was, all things considered, a promising start. Unfortunately surviving a failed Harrowing was impossible, but that he actually recognized mages as people was a step above most templars.

"How did you go from the Circle to the deep roads, though?" I asked.

He shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "The Grand Cleric sent me. There were six of us. Two died in a darkspawn attack on our first day, one more died a few days later from a bite he got in that attack, and two others were killed by some giant spiders not long before I found you. I'm the only one left."

"We found the last two," I said, passing him the amulets from my pocket. "We heard the fighting and tried to get there in time, but didn't make it. I couldn't cremate them properly but we did put their bodies in the lava and offer a prayer."

"Thank you," he said, thumbing over the amulets. "I thought I heard someone as I ran, after they fell. All the spiders took off in the other direction and I didn't want to wait and see if it was more darkspawn."

"Why did the Grand Cleric send you here?" I asked. "Was it a punishment?"

"In a way," he admitted. "Something like a last chance to redeem ourselves. I don't know what the others did; I didn't meet them until the day we left." He pushed his long hair back. From the look on his face I expected him to get up and run.

"Why did she send you, though?" I pushed when he didn't go on. "What were you supposed to be doing in the deep roads?"

"She said we had to..." his words trailed off and the templar glanced around helplessly. He sighed but went on. "She said we had to _take care of_ the Grey Warden apostates." I could see energy already swirling around Anders' hands as he jumped to his feet, stepping in front of me. Oghren stood as well, holding onto his axe menacingly. Everyone else had hands on their weapons. I kept mine sheathed at my hips but rested a hand on each dagger. "I'm not going to, though, I swear!" Ser Ronan said, backing up from us.

Anders took a step forward, raising his hand. "Wait," I said. His sword was still on his back, he wouldn't be able to do anything fatal to either of us before someone could cut him down, and judging by the terrified look on his face Ser Ronan knew as much. Anders reigned his spell in and stepped to the side so he wasn't directly between me and the templar, but remained on his feet next to me, a hand on my shoulder. "By take care of you mean kill, right?"

He nodded slowly. "That's what she meant, yes. I won't do it, though. Even if I was capable of killing Wardens, which I know I'm not after seeing you fight, I just don't _want_ to. You're heroes, for Andraste's sake!" He sighed, looking resigned. "I was going to take off as soon as I found a way out of here, just leave the templars and become a guard somewhere or something, but we got attacked over and over, and then the others died, and then I ran into you. I figure you'll kill me now, and I can't blame you for that. It doesn't matter, if I go back and you're alive they'll just send me to Aeonar anyways, which isn't any different."

I groaned, only feeling depressed and wishing my first suspicion hadn't been exactly right.

"Did you follow us here?" I asked after a moment, heart clenching as I realized we may have inadvertently led a group of templars to Jowan's door. "Did _anyone_ follow us from Amaranthine?"

"No," he answered. "We entered through a cavern near the Circle. Someone told the Grand Cleric you would be leaving several weeks ago." I sighed with relief before realizing this just led to a new problem.

"It seems we have a spy at the Keep," I muttered, annoyed.

"I may know who," Arthur supplied. I raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. "Aidan and I were walking to lunch maybe a month back, he wanted to ask you about training so we stopped by your office and found one of the new guards at your desk reading something. I questioned him about it, he said he had also been looking for you and was leaving a note. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but it stuck in my mind since we both make jokes about how no one can change their socks without asking you for help."

"You remember which guard?" I asked. "I've _never_ found a note from a guard on my desk, only the Captain." He nodded. "Good. We may have to _take care_ of that when we're back at the Keep." I gestured to Anders, he bent over so I could whisper in his ear. "Well?"

"If he'll tell the Landsmeet about this keeping him alive would be smart," Anders whispered back.

I nodded. "Did the Grand Cleric tell you _why_ she was so anxious to see us dead?" I asked.

"Well, she said you were both maleficar," he admitted. "But I don't know if she really thinks that's true, or cares. She just hates that you're mages, from what I can tell. That you're outside the Circle only makes it worse."

"Of course," I said, sighing. The templar seemed to realize how close he was to having seven very angry Grey Wardens, still humming with energy from battle, tear him into small pieces. That alone may be enough to keep him from trying anything. "Would you be willing to tell the King Alistair and Chancellor Eamon what you told us?" I asked him. "Perhaps the Landsmeet?"

"Absolutely," he said. "The Grand Cleric is _insane_. I've heard her complain that things would be easier if we just executed everyone who showed signs of magical power. That would be killing _c__hildren!_" To my relief, he sounded almost as disgusted as I felt about that. "She's still mad you defeated Uldred's rebellion and prevented the Circle from being annulled, too." None of this came as a surprise to me. It was stomach-churning, certainly, but not a surprise.

"Fine," I said. "You stay with us until for now. Please excuse me if I don't trust you completely just yet, though. I won't take your weapon since I might as well kill you myself if I do that, but you won't be taking a watch shift, and you won't be left unsupervised. Understood?" I would have to figure out what to do with him once we returned to Amaranthine.

"Absolutely," he answered quickly. "And thank you, really. You have every right to kill me, I know that, or just abandon me. I know I have no chance of making it out of here alive on my own." I smiled, glad he was aware of that much. Someone who needed us to survive was unlikely to attempt to kill us.

"All right," I told everyone. "Back to work. How far are we from the dead trenches?"

Roland checked the map. "A mile, maybe two."

"I say we go for it tonight," Oghren supplied. "Maybe they'll let us share camp."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Sleeping so soon after a successful battle wouldn't have been possible anyways. "I know I don't have to remind anyone to show respect," I said, "but when we tell them about the Architect and the Mother we need to be careful. No revealing Warden secrets."

"I was just going to let you try and figure out how to do that," Oghren admitted.

"Fair enough." We rose to our feet, shouldering our packs.

I could hear sounds of low talking and even laughter after less than an hour of walking. After turning a corner in the deep roads I saw a group of heavily armored dwarves gathered around a fire, the massive fortress of Bownammar looming behind them. A guard, spotting us, called back to someone. I raised both hands in greeting, displaying that my weapons were sheathed. A bald man, face almost completely covered in a large geometric tattoo, did the same before walking towards us.

"Atrast Vala, Wardens," he said when we were only a few feet apart. "It's been a few years."

"Atrast Vala, Kardol," I replied, offering my arm in greeting. "How have you been?"

"Still dead," he replied with a shrug. I was surprised to see it was still figurative and not yet literal after so long, but figured it wouldn't exactly be polite to congratulate him on his continued survival. "We spotted a big group heading our way not long ago, they veered off at the last second. Should have guessed it was one of your kind that caught their attention."

I nodded. "We took care of them."

"So what brings you here? None of you look old enough to be making your last trip."

"No, not yet," I agreed. "Gathering recruits from the city and looking for you, actually."

"No one _looks for_ the Legion, Warden. Not if they can help it."

"I wanted to warn you. We defeated a group of talking darkspawn near Kal'Hirol," I said simply.

His jaw dropped, a bizarre expression on someone who was hardened by years of living in the deep roads. "By the stone…" he gasped after a moment.

"We need to talk," I said. Kardol nodded quickly, gesturing for us to follow. We joined him by the fire; I noticed Ser Ronan sat back from the group. Roland and Caitlin had positioned themselves to watch the templar. Once seated I quickly ran down everything that we had seen so far, including the destroyed unit of the Legion.

"So that's why I'm here," I concluded. "We wanted to make sure that anyone who encountered them wouldn't be dismissed as mad. The king said a member of the legion left the deep roads not long ago and told the guards he saw one of the talking darkspawn, too."

"Rogin," he said simply. "Well, I can tell you, we haven't seen any talking darkspawn. I heard him tell of it, but he was half-mad and corrupted by that point. Ran off one night saying he had to warn the city." I sighed in frustration. My hope was that someone from the legion could confirm that report was either pure madness, or truth. This was no more than we already knew.

"Would he have been in a position to encounter darkspawn while alone? Is there any chance he was telling the truth?"

Kardol shrugged. "He was in a small scouting party that got ambushed. Only two made it back: Rogin actually carried the other, but she died before waking up."

"So it _might_ be true," Anders suggested. "Have the darkspawn been acting strangely? Like they have an actual plan instead of, I don't know, random death and chaos."

"Not that we've seen," the legionnaire supplied.

"If it is true," I said, "our hope is that this is just a straggler who made it here from the east, not the start of a new breed of them. The worst case scenario would be another architect, or a surviving follower continuing his work." I shrugged. "I think for now we can leave that aside, though. There would be more evidence of it."

"It's good for us to know, in any case," Kardol said. "We're all that stands between Orzammar and the darkspawn. If they surprised us like they did the unit near Kal'Hirol…"

"So you can see why we were looking for you," I replied. "If you do see something in the future, though..."

"We'll include it in our report to the king and make a note that you wanted to be informed." I nodded gratefully. "Any other good news?"

"Besides talking, thinking darkspawn and the destruction of one of your units? No, that's all," I said. "Oh, the lone survivor of that unit is with us now," I added. "It took some convincing, but I couldn't pass up anyone that good against the darkspawn without at least trying. She'll end up back here eventually, anyways. That was the only reason she agreed."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Surprised you were able to manage that."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Even after I convinced _you_ to fight on the surface against the archdemon? You're lucky I already know giving you my recruitment speech would be a waste of time."

He actually cracked a small smile at that. "All right, I see your point."

"Any leads on broodmothers?" I asked finally.

"If I knew we would have taken them out already," he shrugged.

"That's what I figured," I admitted. "Thought it was worth asking just in case."

"What's a broodmother?" Ser Ronan asked.

"They give birth to darkspawn," I said. "So fat they can't move and maybe two stories high, with tentacles."

"_Tons_ of nipples," Oghren supplied with a knowing nod. I shuddered.

"I think we saw one of those," the templar said, looking ill. "Near the entrance at Kinloch Hold. We spotted it in a cavern and ran in the opposite direction."

"Could you lead us to it?"

He looked horrified of the idea but eventually shrugged. "Not from here. From the surface, though, I should be able to. We saw it a few hours in, that pretty much cemented my plan to leave the templars."

"We may detour on the way home," I warned everyone. As I expected, no one argued but a few looked nervous.

The legion invited us to share camp with them that night, which we readily accepted. Trading some of our bread and cheese for some of their roasted nug, we managed one of the better meals I'd ever had while on the road. I ended up sitting between Anders and Kardol. "See the man at the end," I whispered.

"In the breastplate and dress? Never seen armor like _that_ before, it's kind of hard to miss."

"He's not a Warden, he was sent here to kill us," I told him. "A kind of knight with the Chantry on the surface. Says he never planned to follow through, but I'm still keeping an eye on him. Wanted to make sure you knew he wasn't trusted."

He shook his head at that. "You have some of the strangest recruitment tactics I've ever heard of. From us, that says something."

"He's not a recruit, believe me," I stressed. "We need him alive to tell King Alistair about the plot against us." I remembered that Kardol had met Alistair. "The other Warden I was with, last time I was here? He's the King of Ferelden now."

"You taking over the surface now?"

I laughed. "Hardly. The last king died without an heir, Alistair was his half-brother. Turns out King Maric's bastard was the last of the Therin line, and now he's king."

"Wouldn't he believe you even without that one?"

"He would, sure. But then everyone would say it was a Warden plot or something. Having proof means he can do something about it without a bunch of nobles throwing a fit."

"Politics," Kardol snorted. "Same thing everywhere, apparently."

"Watch out," Anders leaned over to us, joining our discussion. "I'm thinking Warden is starting to look a lot nicer than templar to our new friend given how much he's enjoying the off color jokes that end of the table are making. Which it is, of course, but…"

"Are you saying I _should_ recruit him?"

"Andraste's frilly knickers, no! He's a _templar_, and you're a… well, we know what _you_ are. Bad idea. Very bad." Anders shook his head forcefully.

"He may find out soon anyways. We're not on a picnic," I said. "It's very likely you'll be healing my self-inflicted wounds before we get home."

"Oh good, you know how much I _love _doing that," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Better than one of us dying," I reminded him.

"Yes, well, you're lucky I hate the idea of a messy and painful death more," Anders replied.

* * *

_A/N: Wow, long chapter is long! I'm very torn right now. I've been using the spelling griffin, which is what the game uses. But even after something like fifty chapters between two stories it still looks so **wrong** to me. Technically it's no more or less correct than spelling it with an o, but my brain disagrees. So I may change it. _

_Also, just realizing there is a LOT of time between mage origin ending and the arrival at Ostagar. It would have to be long enough for Jowan to get captured, Loghain's men to spring him from the templars, and Isolde to hire him as Connor's tutor, since people are already talking about Arl Eamon's illness by the time you arrive. Ferelden map not to scale, apparently._

_ As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing!__  
_


	24. A carriage drawn by orphans

We laid out our bedrolls not long after finishing the meal. Anders and I took first watch, sitting near the Legion watchman. I knew we could have skipped having a watch completely for the night since the Legion had it down to a finely tuned art but I didn't want to ask them to keep an eye on Ser Ronan for me. The templar set his own bedding out as far from Anders and I as he could, either because he was uncomfortable being near us, or understood we would be uncomfortable being near him. He was currently sleeping soundly, or doing a good imitation of it.

Anders was unusually quiet, staring over the bridge to the fortress, chewing his nails. "What's on your mind?" I asked him.

"Looking forward to getting out of here," he said. "Visiting the place where you'll die isn't exactly comforting."

"I try not to think about it," I said. "Doesn't work, but I try."

"I suppose it's optimistic to even assume either of us will make it long enough to have to worry about that," he chuckled, putting an arm around me. "But that's me."

"I sometimes wonder if the alternative might be better," I admitted. "Falling in battle seems less scary than walking in here alone."

"You might be right about that," he agreed. "Not that I plan to ignore your next bloody injury to spare you the unpleasant retirement."

"Better not," I replied. We fell into silence, staring across the chasm. I could sense the darkspawn on the other side. I tried to figure out how many and gave up before long, realizing once they hit several hundred the exact figure didn't much matter. Most of the Wardens were tossing and turning, I could hear a few mumbled protests against whatever assaulted their dreams. Just as I was starting to wonder when I should wake the next watch I saw Rose sit up, gasping and flailing her arms out.

"Are you all right?" I asked her after kneeling next to her bedroll. She stared at me blankly and I put my hand on her shoulder. "Rose, it was a dream. You're safe."

She blinked a few times and shook her head. "That was a bad one," Rose said, blushing.

"Sometimes being close to them can make it worse," I offered. "I get that, too." To further illustrate my point Roland moaned in his sleep, face twisted in fear.

"He's on second watch with me," Rose offered. "I'll wake him." I squeezed her shoulder and returned to Anders' side.

"We're off," I told him.

"We should go for a walk."

"You want to wander off, alone, in the deep roads?"

He shrugged. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep much here, and I _know_ you'll be screaming practically as soon as you hit your bedroll. I need to stop looking at Darkspawn City, at least for a little while. Besides, we should figure out what to do once we're back on the surface." He was right about that. I had no idea what to do with Ronan once we were home. He hadn't done anything so far to deserve being locked in the Keep's small prison, but I didn't relish the idea of giving him free access to anything, either. And there was the spy to worry about.

I walked over to Rose and Roland. "Anders and I are going to step away for a bit," I warned them. "Need to decide what we're doing…" I gestured to the apparently-sleeping templar, not trusting that he wouldn't be listening in.

"We'll keep an eye out," Rose promised.

"We won't be far," I promised. "I'll stay close enough we'll hear if you shout."

Anders stood up and led me to one of the many caverns opening off the large plaza the legion used as their camp. A quick bend in the tunnel left us out of sight, but still close enough to hear anyone call. Rose and Roland could even see the entrance from where they sat. I looked out and waved, making sure they knew where we were. Rose waved back.

I closed my eyes for a moment, making sure nothing corrupted would jump out and surprise us. The area was free of darkspawn. Eyes open once more I started to let Anders know we were clear when he grabbed me by the waist, pinning me to the cave wall. My gasp of surprise was cut off, his lips pressing against mine, one hand snaked through my hair. I met his kiss, reaching up to hold onto his shoulders. He moved his lips, focusing on my neck, even as one of his hands slipped between my legs. I groaned, grinding against him.

"Remember the tower?" Anders breathed into my ear after several minutes of us gasping and fumbling. I couldn't help but giggle at that even as I hooked my thumbs into my smallclothes, letting them fall. Tucking them into my belt so they wouldn't end up covered in the filth of the deep roads I grinned. Anders made a quick gesture with one hand, purple magic shimmering around him briefly.

"Brilliant," I gasped as he grabbed the back of my thighs and picked me up. I held to his neck with one hand, using the other to shift our armor out of the way as I hooked my ankles together behind his back. "Quiet," I reminded him. Anders nodded, eyes heavy with lust. Adjusting his hold on my hips Anders slowly lowered me onto him. I muffled my groan against his neck as he filled me.

We fell back against the cavern wall, gasping. Anders moved violently against me, I grit my teeth to muffle any noise I might make. That didn't work for long; I let a cry almost loud enough to attract attention slip free, so I buried my face against his neck, nipping at his skin. My nose filled with the dust and grime of the deep roads and the blood of darkspawn that caked his skin as much as it did mine, but under it I could still smell _him_, the familiar scent of musk and magic and even a faint ghost of his cologne. He moaned against my throat, breath hot and damp.

We finished quickly, nails and teeth digging into each other's skin. After catching our breath, leaning against the stone walls in silence for a moment, Anders gently lowered me to the ground. "I swear that wasn't actually my plan," Anders said after a moment. I gave him a dubious glance. "Maybe I needed a reminder we're still alive," he added, grinning.

"No arguments here," I agreed. I held up my hand, conjuring a small flame to burn the rag I used to clean up with, letting the ash fall to the ground before shimmying back into my undergarments. "This may actually be the most horribly irresponsible thing we've ever done, though," I pointed out, suddenly realizing how many deadly things live in the deep roads that don't announce their presence to Wardens from a mile away like darkspawn.

"Admit it," he prodded, poking me in the shoulder, "that's half the fun."

I tried to keep myself from agreeing but the expression on my face gave me away. Anders nodded, satisfied. "We should figure out this templar situation, though," I reminded him.

"Are you just leaving it up to us?" he asked me.

"No," I said. "But it's a bigger danger to us than anyone else, so I think our opinion should count for a lot more. If Aidan was here I'd ask what he thought, too."

"True," Anders said. "I don't know. He's a templar. But he is helping us. If we can get him to talk about what the Grand Cleric said that might be the end of our problems with the Chantry."

I agreed completely. "I don't know what to do with him when we get home. Should we just head right to Denerim? I can't see locking him in the dungeon or anything like that."

"But you don't want him wandering the halls of the Keep, either," Anders concluded.

"If he does tell the landsmeet for us…" I shrugged. "I can't let the Chantry take him back after that. How could I?"

"From what I know of _this_ Grand Cleric he wouldn't end up in Aeonar," Anders said flatly. "I don't like it, but you're right. Letting someone get executed for helping us would be pretty horrible. And I mean horrible even by _Grey Warden_ standards. And we do horrible things to people we _like._"

I nodded. "How is lyrium addiction after six months? Any idea?"

Anders gave me an arch glance. "Really?" he asked. I nodded. "No worse than either of our addictions now. Depends on the quantity, of course, but I can't see them shoving a pound of the stuff down their throats every day."

"I'm not addicted to lyrium," I said.

Anders only snorted. "Of course not. Neither of us are. We both consume more in an average week than a Circle mage does in a year, and what was it today alone, four? Five? Amazing how Wardens seem to be immune to addiction, though." I rolled my eyes.

"Well _fantastic_," I groaned. "One more thing to worry about."

Anders waved dismissively. "Who cares. So we end up having to drink a couple potions a day eventually. The real problem is that your mind snaps after forty or fifty years. I assume you weren't stealing lyrium from the storerooms when you were an apprentice."

"Hardly," I said. "I preferred stealing alcohol if I was going to resort to petty crime." I sighed. At least I wouldn't have to worry about going lyrium-crazy, I'd already be dead by then. How very, very comforting.

"Seriously, though… six months? That's nothing." Anders sat down, leaning against the wall. I joined him.

"Suddenly I'm very relieved I usually stick much closer to home for spellpower," I said, wiggling my fingers.

"I think Aidan may want to learn, by the way," Anders said.

I glanced over at him, surprised. "He hasn't mentioned it to me."

"No, I don't know if he's decided yet. He was very curious about why I never picked it up, though. We talked about it for quite a while. I didn't talk him out of it or anything, but I gave him my honest opinion."

"You've spent more time with him than I have," I pointed out. "What do you think?"

"He's young," Anders said. "And he really does act it sometimes." I giggled at that. "But he's not a fool. He seems to be giving it a lot of thought before even talking to you." He sighed. "I don't think he's likely to become some frothing at the mouth Uldred, if that's what you're afraid of."

"I'll wait until he asks me before I decide," I said. "Try and figure out what his motivation is. I thought he wanted to go more towards healing?"

"I think he likes being able to do a bit of everything. He doesn't have a lot of combat-ready skills now, I know he plans to ask you for help with that."

"I'll definitely support that," I said. We needed combat mages. Anders could help, but right now I was the only one who focused on it. "So," I said, going back to the original purpose for our slipping away from camp, "our thought is that if Ronan comes through for us in Denerim we offer to conscript him so the Chantry can't get him?"

"So long as he doesn't go all _templar_ on us before then, I think so." Anders groaned. "I don't like it, but what else is there to do?" He shrugged before looking over at me. "Also, I have to ask, when you said you would _take care_ of the spy…?"

"You don't want to ask that," I warned him.

"No, I think I do want to ask," he said, looking over at me. "Are you planning to _torture_ people or something?"

"If I have to" I replied. "I don't _want_ to, obviously. But I will do whatever it takes to make sure we can do our job." Anders shook his head, but didn't argue. "Right now I plan to have him and his quarters searched as soon as we get home. I'm not going to tell Nathaniel about the templar in advance, I don't want it to be intercepted. If there's a shred of evidence I'm going to find out how much he's told and if he's working with anyone else." I shrugged. "I want to know what the plans were, and when I get everything I can from him he'll be executed for treason against Ferelden. Nathaniel has assassin training. I may leave the methods up to him, but if he's not comfortable I'll do it myself."

"Nathaniel has assassin training? Nathaniel _Howe_? Tall, dark hair, too sodding repressed to openly flirt with Sigrun? _That_ Nathaniel?"

"I don't think he's _repressed_, he's just shy. Compared to the tower everyone in Ferelden is repressed." He laughed in agreement with that. "How didn't you know, anyways?" I asked. "We did meet him when he showed up at the Keep planning to _assassinate_ me, after all."

Anders giggled. "You know, I had _completely _forgotten about that. I suspected you were out of your mind at the time for that, too."

"And now?"

"Now I know you are, of course," he said. "But conscripting Nathaniel was a good idea."

"I just realized something," I said, counting back. "If we count today, there have been _six_ sodding assassination plots against me in the last five years. _SIX!_" I shook my head. "Maker's breath, you'd think I ate kittens for breakfast and rode in a carriage drawn by orphans and elderly war veterans to earn something like that."

"_You'd think_ people would just give up," Anders snorted. "And it's seven, if you count those peasants who committed suicide by Grey Wardens."

"If we're counting that it's actually eight. I had the same thing happen to me in Lothering right after Ostagar. Nine if you include a trap for Grey Warden supporters in Denerim Alistair and I bumbled into thinking it was a _meeting_ of Grey Warden supporters. Their secret password was 'The griffins ride again,' or something like that."

He laughed at that. "Sometimes I wonder how the two of you didn't end up freezing to death in the Hinterlands."

"Yeah, so do I," I admitted. "Come on, we should get back before they assume we're dead."

Anders stood up and offered me a hand. We walked back to where everyone had camped out, finding nothing of interest happened while we were away. Unfortunately, Anders was right about having trouble sleeping. I managed to wake up screaming no less than three times before we gave up on rest and set out for Orzammar.

We made good time on the trip back, and as expected the darkspawn attacks were fewer the closer we got. On our last day, several hours walk from the checkpoint, Oghren came up next to me. "You decided what to do with the new guy?"

"I think so," I admitted. While we were in Orzammar, for the single night we would spend before leaving, he could stay with us. The palace had provided rooms for both Anders and I, he could take the spare.

"Make sure he knows you'll want him to teach everyone else those templar tricks. They work great on the emissaries. I should have picked it up from Alistair back during the blight, don't know why I never bothered."

"I take it you think we should conscript him, then?"

Oghren snorted. "As long as he doesn't try anything else? Why not, you get all the other assassins to follow us around."

"This is different," I reminded him.

"Right, this is also one of those poor sods jerked around by your surface church," he pointed out.

"So you're in favor of it?"

"I'm in favor of scraping the darkspawn blood out of my beard and settling into a pint at the Tapsters," Oghren said. "The rest?" he shrugged. "Seems like you needed the obvious pointed out."

"Do you trust him?" I asked. "I mean, you're not the one he was sent to kill, but…"

"Trust him more than I trusted Zevran or Nathaniel back when you handed them both weapons and let them follow us around. Sure, little Nate's fine now, but back then?" He shook his head, beard swinging, before tapping a finger against his temple. "Little bit off, if you know what I mean. Daddy issues."

I sighed. "I get your point," I admitted. "Does he even _want_ to be a Warden?" Oghren just shrugged, tipping back a flask.

I squinted as we approached the Commons, blinded after so long in the deep roads. Exhausted, we walked through the commons without pausing to look around and slipped into the Diamond quarter. A few people did cast us glances then, we were all covered in filth and blood after all. Most turned their heads away when they either recognized us or spotted the heraldry.

Ser Roland followed us, looking at the city agape. "Impressive, isn't it?" I could hear Roland ask. "Couldn't believe it when we got here. And they're all fantastic to us, they even had one of those big fights, just for the Wardens. I can see why the Commander loves it here."

"The proving wasn't for _fun_," Oghren pointed out. "It was to find recruits."

"It was both!" Anders said.

I ignored them, trying to remember the way to the palace. "Right," I said, spotting it. "After we get cleaned up let's meet for something to eat, figure out the trip home."

"Decent restaurant on the next block," Oghren offered. "They have surface foods."

Anders started to complain but Oghren reassured him they also offered nug. We agreed to meet outside the palace in an hour. I glanced over at Ronan. "Does anyone have spare clothes that could fit him?" The skirted bottom of his armor was shredded, not to mention filthy. Plus, having such an obvious representative of the Chantry in Orzammar with us would attract a lot of the wrong kind of attention.

"What should I do with my armor?" he asked me.

"My opinion? Burn it. Or at least the cloth parts." I shrugged. "I'll get you something in the commons later, I need to pass through there and make sure the recruits are ready to leave tomorrow."

"Because it's templar armor?" he asked. I was pretty sure he was testing me.

"No," Anders answered before I could. "Because it smells like dead darkspawn, and you didn't rinse the blood out after the fight. Stain's set, nothing to help it now."

"Take it from people who've killed a lot of those things in robes," I advised. "No saving it now." We hiked through the main hall to the guest wing. I made sure to nod or greet people I recognized. A chamberlin handed me two letters from the surface which I tucked quickly into my pack before letting him know we were leaving the next day. "You can take this room," I gestured to Ronan. "Wave your hand over the rune to fill the tub." Roland reappeared, handing him a folded bundle of cloth.

"I need those back," he warned. Ronan nodded, looking confused, and disappeared into his room.

Anders was already getting dressed when I entered ours. I activated the rune on the tub to freshen the water and cleaned quickly, slipping into fresh robes and a cowl. Once dressed I told him about my conversation with Oghren.

"You know I hate when the dwarf is right," Anders groaned. "I really, really do."

"I'll talk to him after dinner," I offered. Anders nodded. "Want to go with me to meet the king?" I asked Anders. His eyes widened. "Come on," I said. We shouldered our staves and headed towards the throne room. I managed to inform the king that the 'incident we discussed' was either isolated or the result of corruption, but the Legion had been informed, and would let him know if there were further developments. He looked relieved, understandably so.

"If I hear from them I'll make sure you're informed," he added before asking me to pass along his gratitude to King Alistair for the help he provided in reclaiming the deep roads.

I read the letters over dinner. "There are _twenty _recruits at home," I grinned, reading Nathaniel's first letter. "Including… two apostates! Fantastic!"

"How many mages do we _need_?" Arthur asked. He was more comfortable around magic now, but I didn't think he'd ever relish the idea of being surrounded by them.

"As many as we can get!" I said. "You can never have enough healers, for one thing. And you saw how many darkspawn died when Anders and I cast one area spell each. It took out almost fifty while we just sat back and watched." He eventually nodded in agreement. "Back before Ostagar Duncan told me he wanted at least one mage with every unit. I'll go one further- I want enough mages that every team leaving the Keep can have a healer and a combat mage with them."

"It does seem to work well that way," Roland noted, gesturing from me to Anders. We nodded.

"Besides," Anders added, "at this rate the Wardens will be the death of me. Do you people _realize_ how often all of you get hurt? I'm just one man!"

Oghren snorted. "You love it, sparkle-fingers. Any chance to show off." He drank some of his ale before raising a finger in emphasis. "Besides, the Wardens will be the death of us all!" Surprisingly, everyone laughed at that.

Ronan was looking at all of us like we were insane. Not that I could blame him, really, but if we didn't joke about things we really _would_ go insane. I returned to the letters. "Oooh, the statue is done!" I announced. "I'll have to invite Teyrna Anora to the dedication." I thought for a moment. "Not the King, though. That would be… bad."

"Oh, I don't know," Anders said. "Watching his Majesty attempt to take down a chunk of granite in the shape of Loghain with his bare hands might be fun."

I laughed at the image, quickly grabbing a napkin to wipe my face. "Don't do that when I have a mouthful of ale!" I warned him after rubbing my nose. "That _hurt_." A few wealthy looking customers from other tables gave us dirty looks.

We calmed down eventually, finishing our meal. Once the waitress had cleared our table I had Roland spread out our map. Ronan pointed out the deep roads entrance, which we added to our other notes.

"Take the recruits or no?" I asked.

"Against a _broodmother_?" Anders said. "That seems a bit much."

"I don't want to just leave them on the surface," I said. "Who knows how long we'll be gone. It's totally unfamiliar to them."

"We could just tell them to keep back," Oghren said. "We kill the broodmother, set them on anything that tries to defend her."

"Good," I agreed. "That works." I glanced down at the map, adding a notation to it.

"What's that?" Roland asked.

"Our second detour on the way home," I explained. Oghren looked and let out a groan. "Hush," I threatened. "We need to check on Avernus, and I want another mage with me to make sure the veil is holding up." Come to think of it, having a templar there could be useful as well. Some of their skills worked against demons. "Ser Ronan, we may be putting you to work as well if you're willing. Demons and tears in the veil. Fun stuff." He nodded, looking nervous. "Just don't… go near Avernus. Actually, you may not even want to look directly at him. Just pretend I'm talking to myself when he shows up." I honestly didn't think a templar in Thedas stood a chance against that old maniac at this point, he'd been stewing in power for centuries after all, and didn't want our Chantry evidence to get turned into an experiment because he tried to smite the wrong mage.

"Pompous ass," Oghren snorted.

"He is," I agreed. "And crazy. And maybe dangerous, although not so much anymore since he's older than Andraste." I shrugged. "His research gave me some very… helpful new skills, though. I want the recipes."

Anders recognized the name. "Didn't he experiment on—"

"Any means necessary," I reminded him. "You know I won't force it on anyone, but the option is there." He shook his head but didn't argue. "Plus, I left some stuff there during the blight, and it's only a couple hours out of our way. I should have a box of maybe ten fancy suits of armor, a few robes, and some really nice weapons."

"I say put it off," Anders argued. "Aidan is _fantastic_ with the Veil. We should bring him with us."

"All right," I agreed. "After Denerim, then." I moved onto the second letter. It was a very brief note from Nathaniel. _"Four more apostates today. Did you hang fliers?"_ wrapped around a letter from Orlais. I chuckled and passed Nathaniel's note to Anders so he could show it around. I hadn't done anything so obvious as hanging a flier, but I had mentioned something to a few representatives of the Mages' Collective about our open-door policy with apostates. It was finally starting to pay off, apparently. The Chantry wouldn't like it one bit, but hopefully we wouldn't have to worry about that for much longer.

"What's that one?" Roland asked. "Looks foreign."

"Montsimmard," I answered, scanning the note. "From Alain, the Commander in Orlais. He wants to know when he should send a couple of their mages to us so I can teach them the arcane warrior techniques. Weisshaupt told the other commanders to contact me, evidently." I smiled, replacing all the letters in my pack. "That should be fun, meeting some of our brothers and sisters from outside Ferelden."

"Or they'll all treat us like backwater barbarians," Anders said.

"True," I agreed sadly. "I may have to ask you to help me. I'm not a very good teacher, I don't want us to look like fools." He nodded in agreement.

"A darkspawn-killing army of mages with swords," Roland grinned. "That guy from Weisshaupt was right, nothing can stand up to that." Well, that was the hope. And if the technique became so well know it could continue to be taught long after I was gone, all the better. I'd been watching Ronan during our conversation. He didn't seem particularly shocked by anything, other than Avernus who would shock just about anyone that wasn't an abomination themselves, and actually looked like he agreed with Roland's statement.

"I'm going to do some shopping and hunt down the recruits, anyone want to come?" I asked as we packed up. Rose and Anders did, and Ronan had to since I was getting him armor. Everyone else went their own way. "Remember, _early_ tomorrow. Don't overdo it." They wouldn't listen, but at least I tried.

We stopped to check in with Telka and Brinjar first, they were both excited to be leaving. Brinjar, who had been on Deep Roads trips before, was amazed we made it as far as the Dead Trenches and back without any serious problems. "Just wait," I promised him, "this is _normal_ for us."

"Is it really," Ronan asked when we were heading to the Commons. "Normal?"

"All those legends about the Wardens had their start somewhere," Rose said. Ronan didn't respond.

I found Othmar in his family's armor store in the Commons. He said he would be ready, and his father gave us a discount on armor for Ronan. He also managed to examine my daggers and write down specific instructions on recreating the enchantments on them, detailing each rune step by step. It wasn't entirely different from enchanting a new staff, but there were several variations I wouldn't have discovered on my own. "These are _very_ unusual," he said, moving one with a cloth on his hand so he wouldn't have to touch the metal. "It feels… strange. You _want_ them like this?"

"They're for mages," I explained, picking one up and spinning it. "Other people hate touching them, and they don't much like other people, but they love me." Once I finished spending an obscene amount on new weapons for almost everyone the four of us headed to Dust Town, Ronan silently following. No one answered the door at Runi's house. A neighbor poked their head out and said "she's gone," but refused to elaborate. I went to Helka's, not far away, hoping she could explain. Her door opened quickly and, when the woman realized who it was, she gasped and paled.

"There's a problem," Helka said flatly.


	25. Do you recruit exclusively among the mad

We followed her into the tiny house. I'd never been inside one of the houses in Dust Town and had to say, if anything, Sigrun downplayed the poverty. "Tell me," I said, sitting across from her.

"I'm fine, but Runi isn't." I waited for her to continue. "She's alive," Helka said. "For now." I groaned. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good.

"Well, what happened? Is she hurt? Sick?"

"In jail," Helka said, grimacing. "They're going to send her to the Deep Roads, to the Legion."

I sighed with relief and everyone but Anders gave me a strange look. He glanced at me and we shared the same crazed grin, both enjoying the thought of saving someone from that fate. "This shouldn't be a problem," I explained quickly. "What did she do?" Helka sighed and looked away, obviously not wanting to tell me. I leaned down and put a hand over hers. "Please, tell me. We can help."

"I don't think you'll want to, Commander." She pushed her hair back and made a face. "She killed a man."

"Well, did he deserve it?" I asked. Anders chuckled and Rose gave me that 'our Commander is crazy' look I knew so well. Ronan's expression was somewhere around 'Maker, save me from this lunatic' and 'perhaps the Chantry had a good reason to want her dead.'

"I have no idea," Helka said, looking crushed. "I don't know the details. I mean, I'd think he deserved it. She wouldn't even work for the Carta, Ruri isn't the kind of person that kills for no reason."

"All right," I said. "I'll go get her."

"What?" Helka said, shocked.

"You heard me. I'm going to get her out of jail."

"Can- can you do that?" she asked, her dark eyes wide.

"Of course I can," I said.

"We're going to, um, break someone out of prison?" the templar looked at me, horrified. Ronan was not adapting well to the heat of Orzammar, apparently. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, and kept wiping his face with a rag.

"What?" I blinked at him. "No! We're going to ask them to release her. And then, if they argue, I'm going to remind them who I am and invoke the Warden right of conscription." I shrugged. "We don't care what anyone's past is. Never have." Rose gave me a pointed look when I said that, tilting her head slightly towards the templar.

"I know, I know," I said to her.

Anders sighed, catching our exchange. "Already had that pointed out to us," he said. She gave me a small, satisfied grin.

"This may complicate things, Maggie," Anders pointed out. "I don't think they'll want us hanging around with her until tomorrow." I winced, he was right. When Duncan conscripted me they wouldn't even let us stay long enough to get the few belongings I owned.

"All right. How much time do we have?"

"They're sending her first thing tomorrow," Helka said.

"You packed and ready?" she nodded. "Where is Runi now?" Helka gave me directions to the prison on the edge of the Commons. I asked Rose and Ronan if they had to pack, neither did. Thankfully Anders was such a neat freak he folded everything and returned it to our bags as soon as it was worn. Our bags were already packed and ready on the table in our room, with clothes for tomorrow on top.

"I don't _own_ anything," Ronan reminded me. I nodded.

"Anders, grab our packs and then get all the recruits, have them meet us…" I paused, trying to think of an appropriate location. "By the Commons door to the Hall of Heroes," I concluded. It was easy to find, and we had to pass through there to leave.

"Helka, can you go with Rose? Get Ruri's stuff for her, then find the Wardens and let them know we're leaving tonight, soon as we can. Hopefully it hasn't been long enough for any of them to be too drunk yet, but you may need to do some herding or help them pack." She and Ronan both gave me a shocked look, but I ignored it. "Check Tapsters first. If anyone's really bad get Anders, he can use magic to sober them up."

"What about me?" Ronan asked.

"You get to help me spring this poor girl from jail," I said, grinning. "It'll be fun."

Anders leaned down to whisper in my ear once we were out in the street. "Might as well take advantage of the time it'll take to get there, no one will let us live it down if you don't speak to him soon."

"That's my plan," I whispered back.

"Don't let him kill you," he added. "Not that he could." I laughed and kissed him on the cheek, sending everyone off.

"Right," I turned to Ronan. "Off to be big heroes."

"You don't even know why she did it," he pointed out.

I lowered my voice. "Look at this place! People here aren't even allowed to hold most jobs, it's an actual real _law_." His eyes widened at that. "Andraste's tits, I don't _care_ why. If she tells me she had a good reason that'll be enough."

We walked out of Dust Town and passed through the Commons, eliciting glances on the way. Two humans stood out. Something caught my robes as we passed through a side street. I turned and saw a young boy looking up at me.

"Are you a mage?" he asked. "Can I see you do magic?"

"Sure," I told him. Ronan, predictably, shifted next to me, looking even more uncomfortable than he had been. "Don't be such a templar," I told him. "I'm not going to burn a house down or anything." I pointed my hand at a stone wall and the boy gasped as ice covered it before clapping his hands and running towards the wall. "Watch out," I warned him. "It'll be very cold!"

"Dwarves have a thing for magic," I explained to him as we walked away. "They don't grow up hearing that we're all monsters so everyone's just curious instead of scared. Drives Anders nuts, though. He says we might as well dance for people's amusement when I do things like that."

"I assume you don't have to worry about vows," he said dryly.

"Thank the Maker, no. Maintaining our sanity is difficult enough as it is, you've seen what we do."

"It's not always like that, though," he said. "It couldn't be."

"No," I agreed. "Usually it's worse. We lost two recruits when the darkspawn attacked us between here and West Hill. A third ran when she saw them. Almost lost Rose," I added, shaking my head. I still felt guilty for barely being able to heal her in time. "This time? No deaths, no major injuries, and we met our objective. A real success."

We continued on in silence. "Commander, can I ask you something," he asked when we were near the prison.

"Go ahead," I said.

He shifted, looking nervous. Seeing him in the light of the Commons I realized sweat was actually covering his face. "I, um, I lost my pack in the deep roads," he began. "And, well… the Chantry doesn't tell people this, but templars all—"

"Maker's breath, I'm such an ass," I said, cutting him off. He'd been with us for almost a week now. I kicked myself, amazed he wasn't vomiting and hallucinating in the corner somewhere. Retrieving a small glass bottle from my pocket I passed it to him. "Here," I said. "I'm really sorry. I should have remembered. If I forget again just please let me know." No wonder he was sweating so much.

"You _knew_," he said, shocked, after quickly finishing the potion.

"Alistair told me about it. _We all have our Chantry leashes,_ he said. Granted, that was after we stopped eyeing each other nervously across the campfire in silence, him wondering when I would turn into a giant rage abomination and me wondering if that would be the night he'd cut my head off."

"That's not it," Ronan said. "It's unfortunate, but it's a side effect. The skills we use wouldn't work otherwise."

"Have you ever tired?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Well, I've seen Alistair take down emissaries and blood mages without any trouble. And he trained a Qunari warrior we knew how to do it, too. Trust me, that is just the templar version of a phylactery." He looked queasy. "Welcome to my world," I told him with a shrug. "At least _you_ can quit. They can still find me no matter where I go."

"I suddenly feel very used," he said. "More than I did already, in any case, which says quite a bit."

"Sorry," I offered. "I figured you knew. Anders can help you if you want to quit. He's a fantastic healer."

Ronan shrugged. "It doesn't matter at this point. I suspect after we go to Denerim I won't exactly be welcomed to active duty again."

I sighed and pointed at a bench outside a small café. "Sit," I ordered, walking to it. He joined me.

"You've been nothing but honest with me," I began. "If you promise to keep that up, I'm going to be completely honest with you."

"I told a group of heavily armed Grey Wardens I had been sent to kill their commanding officer," he reminded me. "If I was going to lie, that would have been the ideal time."

"You have a point," I admitted. "So, you seemed surprised that I don't care why she killed that man. Fact is, I do. I'd like it to be self defense or something. But that's me as a person. As a Warden it doesn't matter if it was just to steal his purse. She's good, and I need her. We take anyone. Criminals, killers, thieves, apostates, maleficar, it doesn't matter. Always have. Sure, quite a few people simply _want_ to join, and they're just as welcome. Once someone undergoes the ritual to become a warden it doesn't matter what they did before."

"And that system works?"

"Sure? Why not?" I shrugged. "You'd be amazed how loyal and dedicated people become when they're saved from prison or execution. Of course, there are many reasons we're so devoted to our cause, but most can't be revealed until after someone undergoes the Joining."

"I can see how that might work," Ronan admitted. "Although it does surprise me, considering the reputation of the Wardens. Knowing that the people everyone reveres as great selfless heroes are the lowest of society…" he shook his head.

"You don't get it," I told him. "Desperation drives people to horrible things, sometimes. It doesn't make them _bad_. Stealing to keep from starving, killing for your freedom, using forbidden magic to stay alive. Who wouldn't do that, if they had no other options?"

"_Blood magic_?" he said, eyebrows raised. "You're defending _blood magic_. What good could come of that? It controls minds!"

"Everyone always says that," I muttered, more to myself than him. "You know, I've seen actual mind control _once_. Uldred. And he had to torture people for _days_ first, even then it didn't work on everyone. And he was so far gone I watched him turn into an abomination right in front of me before I killed him. Sure, someone can confuse darkspawn enough to get them to fight each other, but that's closer to a hex of misdirection, and they've barely got minds as it is. But to walk over to, say, the king and tell him to carry out a complex order? Not a _chance_."

"I can't believe that. Why would anyone bother if not to control thoughts, knowing it's a death sentence? What other purpose is there?"

"Because it's powerful," I said simply. "It is so _unbelievably_ powerful. You've seen the damage I can cause with normal magic. A single blood magic spell makes that look like… a child practicing after their first lesson. That's why we allow it. It's power that can be used against darkspawn."

Ronan looked away from me, covering his face with his hands briefly as he leaned back on the bench. I could hear him groan. "It's true, isn't it?" he said after a moment. "What the grand cleric said… it's true. You are—"

"I am," I agreed, watching him carefully to see if he would reach for his weapons. "Not every mage in the Wardens needs to be, I don't require it. I'm the only one now, but everyone knows. I won't use anyone else's blood to fuel a spell, and I don't even know _how_ to control a mind. But the rest? I'll throw anything I can at the darkspawn, the more the better. And more than once it's been the only reason we returned home at the end of the day instead of all dying in some darkspawn lair."

"So why are you telling me this?" he asked. "I was going to help you. I believed you. Why now?"

"You haven't figured it out?" I said, surprised. He shook his head. "Because you don't _have_ to go back to the Chantry," I said. "Not if you don't want to. But I need to make sure you know what you're walking into, since I can't have someone at my back unless I trust them."

I watched the play of expressions across his face. Confusion, surprise, fear, and back to confusion again. "You _do_ remember that I was sent to kill you, yes?"

"I'm surprisingly forgiving," I said. "Usually far more than this. There's been more than half a dozen assassination attempts against me. You wouldn't be the first, or even the second, who went on to fight on the side of the Wardens after." I grinned at his look of surprise before taking a breath. This was the part I didn't want to say, perhaps even more than admitting to being a blood mage. "It has been pointed out to me, by more than one person, that I… haven't been exactly fair." I blushed and went on. "I'll admit, I don't like templars. It isn't anything personal against you, but I grew up in the tower. I'm still not over it. So, there's that. But, I also know a lot of templars are very, um… strong in their beliefs. They may make good Wardens individually, but wouldn't be willing to live and fight at the side of blood mages and apostates, or wouldn't take orders from a one. I can't have anyone who would ever turn on a fellow Warden."

"That is… a good deal to think about," he said. "I'm no expert, but from what I have understood, becoming a Warden isn't some simple oath, either."

"No, it's not," I admitted. "It's a ritual, and it does change you. Not who you are fundamentally or anything that horrid," I assured him, "but it's physical and mental. I can't discuss the specifics now."

"Many of the senior Enchanters at the tower were privy to Warden secrets," he said. I nodded, I knew that much since they prepared the Joining at Ostagar for Duncan. "From what I've overheard, right after the blight ended, some die in the attempt?"

"I can't discuss that now," I said. "Once you decide, I can tell you more. But from that point there's no going back."

"Can I think on this? Do you need an answer now?"

"No, take your time," I said. "I couldn't let someone who helped us go to Aeonar when I knew I had a way to spare them. The Wardens saved me from a similar fate." I stood up. "Come on, we have a jailbreak to finish."

We headed over to the prison, still collecting curious looks. Part of me expected a dagger in the back at any moment, but I didn't want to act paranoid. "This should work out well," I said, trying to move into a more casual conversation. "Once we're done here everyone else should be ready and waiting. I don't like the idea of having to stand around and wait."

"Hm?" he said, clearly not paying attention. "What? Oh, yes, that makes sense."

Leaving him to his thoughts I walked into the prison. A man at a counter looked over at me, recognition flashing on his face after a few seconds. "Commander," he greeted me. "What can I do for you? I don't believe we have any of your people here. They just got a warning."

I sighed. "I wasn't even aware of that," I admitted. "I'm sorry. What did they do?"

He shrugged. "Nothing serious. They had a bit too much to drink, there was a slight ruckus in Tapsters earlier. We know our brew hits you surfacers like a ton of bricks."

"I'm so sorry about that," I said, blushing. "We just got back from a long expedition in the Deep Roads, I think everyone was a bit too wound up. Do you know who was causing the problems?"

He shrugged. "So you can holler at them? Nah, don't bother, it was minor. Wasn't even their fault, someone in the crowd got a bit too friendly with one of your ladies and her fellow Warden took offense. I shouldn't have said anything at all. What can I do for you?"

"You have a young woman locked up," I began. "I've been told she was involved in an incident in Dust Town. Her name's Ruri, she has very light hair, worn in a long braid?"

"Ah, the murdering brand," he said. "What else did she do?"

I asked to see her, and he looked at me like I was insane but didn't argue. "Suit yourself," he said, opening a door and gesturing me to follow. I gestured for Ronan to wait in the lobby and followed the guard. A row of cells composed the bulk of the next room. I saw Ruri in one, her hair was a mess and she'd clearly been crying.

"Can you leave us?" I asked the guard. He nodded and walked out, closing the door.

"Here to yell at me?" she asked, not looking up.

"Well, I hadn't _planned_ on it. I mean, if you really want I can give you one of the rants I already have prepared. Any preference on the topic? I can go with personal responsibility, teamwork, or you can get my lecture about responsible use of magic. That's one of my best."

"Oh, you're a funny Warden? Didn't know they made any of those." She rolled her eyes, looking up at me. "Why are you here?"

"To ask you the same thing," I said. "And to help."

"What's there to ask? I killed someone."

"Did you have a good reason?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. He's a noble, I'm just a brand."

"No," I told her. "You're a Warden. We're getting you out of here."

"What?" she looked at me like I was insane. "You didn't even ask me why! And how?"

"Doesn't matter why," I said. "You can tell me if you want, but I won't force you. You said you had a good reason, that's enough for me." I walked over and knocked on the door.

The guard walked back in. "Done here, Commander?"

"Just about," I told him. "I'm conscripting this woman, please release her to my custody."

He started to argue but cut himself off halfway through. "It doesn't really matter what I say, does it?"

"Not really," I admitted. "You know it's my right."

He sighed and unlocked the cell. "Just… get her out of here. I don't want a riot on my hands."

"Understood. And thank you for cooperating."

He sighed. "Just go. I'll never hear the end of this from my boss."

I thanked him again and left, offering Ruri a clean rag from my pocket so she could wipe her face. "Do you need to say goodbye to anyone before we go?" I asked her.

"No," she said. "I don't have any family. I have to get my things, though. That armor you bought me, the new weapons…"

"Already taken care of," I told her. "We're ready whenever you are. Did they take care of you? Have you eaten?"

"No, it's okay. They fed me, I'm all right," she said, still looking numb.

"Well, let's get out of here, then," I said.

Ruri nodded and followed us. I saw Ronan pat her on the shoulder briefly, an expression of pity on his face. I made sure we stayed close together in the Commons, and although there were comments no one tried to approach us. Once the door came into view I could see everyone gathered around, waiting. Anders was passing out small jars of a salve to the new recruits. He broke away from the group as we approached, running over to us and falling into step beside me. I quickly put on my cloak and took my pack from him.

"Here you go," he said, passing a jar to Ruri. "Something I mixed up. It's _much_ colder on the surface than you're used to, that will help you adjust. And it should keep you from getting burned by the sun as well. Just a little, rubbed into your exposed skin."

She accepted the jar. "The sun… _burns?_"

"Kind of like splashing yourself with really hot water," I told her. "Since your skin isn't used to it. When I left the tower I got the _worst_ sunburn. It's not agonizing or anything, but it isn't fun." She nodded, not looking any more reassured, and applied the salve as we walked.

"Any problems?" he asked me.

"Not at all," I said. "The guard was surprisingly understanding." Ruri broke off from us, rushing over to embrace Helka. I could see her quickly pulling armor on over her clothes and getting ready to set out.

"And the _other_ thing?"

"I'm still thinking about it," Ronan spoke up. "I thought mages supposed to be _good_ at keeping secrets. You two aren't exactly subtle."

"We get that a lot," Anders said. "Sorry." Ronan shrugged in reply. "For what it may be worth it's really a good deal of fun if you enjoy killing evil things. And the other bit was rather… disturbing to me as well. But if you put that aside she's one of the nicest people around. Apart from that, which I don't care for, either. Best not to argue, though. Not unless you have several hours to kill. She'll give you a lecture involving quotes from the chant, elaborate explanations and analysis of the passages to explain why she thinks her position is right, and diagrams."

"I'm standing right here," I reminded Anders, elbowing him. He laughed and put his arm across my shoulder.

"Like I said: not exactly subtle." Ronan shook his head. "Are all Wardens insane? Is it one of those side effects of the Joining she won't talk about, or do you recruit exclusively among the mad?"

"Ah, I've missed that famous templar charm," I teased. We reached the rest of the group. "Everyone ready?" I asked. Most nodded, but I noticed everyone looked rather nervous.

"Right," Oghren said, stepping forward. I winced as he swayed on his feet. "The big shiny thing in the sky during the day? That's the sun, don't stare at it. _Trust me_." They nodded. "You might puke at first. It's that 'fresh air' thing they all talk about. It's sodding cold, it's always raining, and it smells like dogs up there. Oh, rain? That's water from the sky. But it's snow now. Same thing, just frozen." He grinned. "But the ale? _Fantastic_. No dirt in it! No sodding _traditions_ and _castes_ to make you miserable, either. And if you like heavily armed lunatics you won't find a better bunch than us."

"Thank you, Oghren," I sighed. "I'm sure that was… very helpful."

"You know me, just happy to help," he said, swaying his way over to the main doors.

"I can't believe _he_ was married to a Paragon," I heard Telka comment.

"Never _ever_ bring that up to him," I whispered to her. "He had to kill his own wife after she went insane. You didn't see what she _did_, I was there. You'd drink, too."

"Yes, Commander," she said quickly. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. Just letting you know we don't really discuss it, and with good reason." We passed through the hall quickly. Oghren paused by the statue of Branka. Anders caught my eye and nodded before hurrying everyone past. I went over to stand with him.

"I remember the day they put this up," he said, looking at it. "She didn't even want to come. We snuck out early, went home, had little party of our own." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Still miss her sometimes," he said.

"I know," I replied. "I'm sorry. I wish there had been some other way."

"Not your fault," he said. "It's hers. She did it to herself." Oghren shook his head. "I was so sodding _mad_ when she didn't bring me. But if she did…"

"Did you ever think she might have known something would happen? Maybe she left you to keep you safe?" I didn't know if that was even remotely close to the truth, but if it made him feel better I'm sure the Maker would allow me a white lie.

"Huh," Oghren said. "Never thought of that." He reached up and patted the statue on the cheek before turning and walking away. "Enough of this weepy crap," he called back over his shoulder. "Let's go scare the new kids with the sky."


	26. Have I mentioned that it has wings?

We made camp not far from the merchants who always clustered around the doors of Orzammar. The recruits had frozen when the doors opened, but were gradually relaxing. Everyone else had taken it upon themselves to keep them entertained so they were at least distracted by the lack of a ceiling. It wasn't doing a ton of good yet, but at least no one had thrown up in several hours, and Helka had come out from hiding in her tent.

"What did you tell everyone to explain Ser Ronan," I asked Anders as we sat by the fire, watching over the barely-controlled chaos of our campsite. He had even joined in with everyone when they began to sing and drink.

"Just that he was with one of the 'surface groups' in the Deep Roads. Last survivor, lucky to find us just in time," he said. "I mean, that's all _true,_ technically. If they assume he's one of Alistair's troops that's their own fault. Figured saying he was an assassin we were letting tag along wouldn't make them any _less_ nervous about this trip."

"Clever," I said.

"I have my moments," Anders said. "Rather frequently, in fact." He slid closer to me and wrapped his cloak around both of us.

"That you do," I agreed.

"So did she tell you what happened?" he asked.

"No, I didn't make her. She can, if she wants to. Said it was a good reason, that's enough for me."

"And if she had said it wasn't a good reason?"

"Not sure," I admitted. "I doubt most people would admit that, though. Even someone who don't have a good reason will still think they did. Well, unless they're a complete lunatic."

"Speaking of complete lunatics," Anders said, grabbing my waist, "do you think we'll be killed in our sleep tonight, or will it be once we're back in Amaranthine?"

"I don't think we will at all, actually. He took it very well. Not so much angry as… I don't know, disappointed. Sad. I felt kind of bad about telling him, actually, he looked like a kicked puppy."

"A kicked puppy carrying a sword longer than most of our new recruits are tall," Anders reminded me. "It's a risk, I hope you know what you're doing."

"I've taken bigger risks than this before," I reminded him. "Come on, you know we had to, no one would have forgiven either of us otherwise. And now you're just starting to sound like Jowan. 'Breaking into the storeroom is dangerous, Maggie. I don't want to get caught stealing from the First Enchanter, Maggie. We can't replace the lesson plans with dirty limericks, they'll know it was us, Maggie."

"All right, I have two things to say," Anders said. "First, I'm almost glad I didn't know you in the circle, I might not have had the urge to escape quite so badly if things that exciting were happening. Second, never tell me I sound like Jowan again. Maker save me if I'm ever that much of a nervous wreck."

"Nah, I'm exaggerating. I mean, he would say that sort of thing. But the conversation would usually begin with 'Hey Maggie, guess what I found out? There's a whole case of Antivan brandy in the storeroom!' or something like that." I giggled, remembering how people would tell him _anything_ assuming harmless shy Jowan would never use the information to cause trouble, despite decades of proof to the contrary.

"So he'd bait you, wait for your suggestion to do something, and then complain?"

"It was our thing we did."

"How did you even end up becoming friends? You don't seem to have much in common."

I shrugged. "By default, I guess. We were younger than all the other apprentices in the tower at the time by a few years, no one else wanted to be friends with us. He arrived before me, from what I know his first year was fairly miserable. Jowan told me he was all set to revel in no longer being the baby of the apprentices when they dragged me in, kicking and screaming. But then he felt bad and decided he would take care of me instead."

"Inseparable ever since?" Anders chuckled.

"I didn't give him much choice. The templars weren't exactly comforting on the trip there, and those damn helmets didn't help things. Jowan was the first friendly face I saw, so I just sort of latched on." I giggled. "I'm sure there were many occasions he wished he'd just left me crying and clawing at the front doors."

"I've never really had someone like that," Anders admitted. "I had friends in the tower, but by the time I got there it seemed like everyone was already set in longtime groups, so I wasn't especially close with anyone."

"You have plenty of friends now, though," I reminded him.

"Very true. It seems risking your life with people is a remarkable bonding experience."

"Isn't it?" I agreed.

The next morning I made breakfast for everyone, a massive pot of sweetened oat porridge, while they packed up tents and got ready to leave. After we finished eating Roland and I poured over the maps, determining our best route, while Anders directed everyone to load the wagon, a process that consisted of him standing around and saying things like "well, I don't know. Where was it before? Just put it back there. Well, ask Rose where it should go then, she's good at that sort of thing." We had left Orzammar after dark and I noticed, despite Oghren's well-intentioned warnings, several of the recruits stumbling around briefly blinded after staring at the sun for too long. Fortunately the general reaction seemed to be one of curiosity, not fear, which was better than I hoped.

"So where is this deep roads entrance near the tower?" Roland asked me.

"No idea," I admitted. "There are some cliffs, here I think," I pointed to a spot on the map. "I could see them from my room, if I've got the side right. That seems a likely spot."

He sighed. "Well, we can get directions from him as we get closer." Roland rolled up the maps and tucked them into his pack. "You talked to him, right? I asked Anders, he said you took care of it."

"Maker's breath, is everyone going to ask? Yes, I talked to him. He's still deciding."

Roland nodded. "Good. Arthur and I talked to him, he really got screwed over by the Chantry. Save him from them and he could end up very loyal to the Wardens."

"He could," I agreed. "But templars aren't knights or guards. They're… well, they're more like us. United by common goals and beliefs, not just the desire for a few silvers. If he can't let go of some of those beliefs I don't think he'd ever be happy among us." _And he might end up killing me_, I added silently.

Roland shrugged. "I get the feeling he's pretty disillusioned with them now. _And_ I mentioned that _we_ don't have a vow of celibacy. _That_ got his attention." Of course, Roland would think of that first.

"I'm sure it did," I laughed, mounting my horse. Since the wagon was so full I would be riding alongside it. It snowed throughout the day, getting deeper and deeper as we pressed forward. We were able to reach the area Ronan directed us to, not far from the Circle of Magi, shortly before dark.

"Let's scout it out tonight," Rose suggested. "Get an idea of what we're up against tomorrow."

I nodded in agreement, better to know now if it was hundreds of darkspawn than tomorrow, new recruits in tow. "Rose and Ronan, you're with me. Anders and Oghren are in charge while I'm gone," I told everyone before the three of us set out.

"Right over there," Ronan called as we approached, trudging through snow that went up to my hips at times. I could already sense high numbers of darkspawn around us.

"Be careful," I warned. Rose had her blades ready, Roland drew his sword. We climbed the small hill quickly, hoping to beat nightfall. "This is bad," I said, sensing more than I could count, so close I wondered why I couldn't see them.

"They're not attacking us, though," Rose pointed out. "Why aren't they attacking us?"

"I don't know. I can sense them, they're close. They should know we're here. Or me, at the very least." I could see a few bodies clustered further up, near the cave. "Not liking this," I added, feeling the need to state the obvious as I stepped over a dead genlock, mostly buried.

"It wasn't like this before," Ronan said. "It was just… normal. Not covered in corpses, certainly."

"I'd hope if it was you would have mentioned it," I replied. We'd made it to the top of the hill. My foot caught on something in the snow and I went flying, landing face down in a drift. "Andraste's tits," I cursed, struggling back to my feet and brushing the snow off my face. "What the…" I uncovered the cause of my fall and fell silent for a moment before gesturing Rose and Ronan over. They had been giggling ever since my graceless landing. "This just keeps getting more interesting," I said, gesturing to the body of a templar. From the looks of it, he had been there for at least a couple weeks.

"By the Maker…" Ronan said.

"I suppose that explains who killed the darkspawn," I said, pressing forward. Any further discussion was cut short when we saw the cavern entrance. "Fantastic," I muttered. "And I guess _that_ explains why we're not being attacked." The opening had been caved in, and the templar responsible was half-buried, crushed under the rubble. There could be a legion of darkspawn beating against the rubble from the opposite side and even they had no chance of passing through.

"I think this is recent," Rose said, kneeling down in the opening which was sheltered from the snow. "Frozen lightning, and small shards of fire crystal. Aren't those used in bombs?"

"They are," I sighed.

"Something else, but I can't recognize it. Smells funny." She brought a small piece of glass to us, covered in a granular substance.

"Lyrium" Ronan and I said simultaneously when she was close enough for us to smell it. "Drop it, now," I told her, "and take off your gloves. We have spares, leave those here." She nodded, doing as I instructed. I checked her eyes briefly. "Should be fine, just let me know if you start to feel dizzy." Turning back to the cave I looked around. "From what I see, there are two options. One is, the darkspawn began pouring out at some point after Ronan and his group entered, leaving them no choice but to seal it up."

"A handful of darkspawn is hardly 'pouring out'," Rose said. "How would they have even known with so few until they were right here?" Well, I knew that, too, but I wasn't exactly going to tell Ronan they sent him into the deep roads and sealed it up as soon as he was out of sight. Not so bluntly, at least. She seemed to realize the full meaning of what she said quickly, blushing a furious red and stammering an apology.

"Last chance to prove my devotion my _ass_," Ronan muttered, kicking the stone. He quickly smacked a hand over his mouth.

"I think a bit of swearing is allowed right now," I told him. I glanced at the stone again. "You know, when _I _send people on suicide missions I at least have the decency to let them know what it is beforehand. This is pretty damn low."

"You do that often? Send people on suicide missions?"

"Only when I'm also going," I said. "And usually only volunteers as well. Lost one person so far, and that was… unavoidable. I might be able to explain why someday, everyone else understands." I shrugged. "As it was explained to me, being a Warden is both a calling and a sacrifice. We all fall in battle, sooner or later. This isn't a life for someone who values their safety over anything else."

"That isn't a very inspiring recruitment speech. Shouldn't you tell me about the glorious history of the Wardens or your status as peerless warriors?" Ronan looked at me, shaking his head.

"Why?" I asked him, beginning the walk back to camp. "I could tell you our history, I bet I know more than anyone outside Weisshaupt, but everyone _knows_ it's glorious. Everyone _knows _we're the best warriors in Thedas, so that's no surprise. Might as well tell you the sky is blue, or the sun rises in the east. I prefer honesty."

"Everyone knows there's no such thing as an old, retired Warden, either," he pointed out. "The other is… a bit more comforting."

"Sorry," I told him. "Would it help if I lied and said we had an aerie of secret griffons at home?"

"Actually… yes. That would be pretty spectacular."

"Wouldn't it?" I waved as we approached camp, letting them know of our return.

"Well?" Anders asked as we returned. He was trying to help everyone get tents up, melting snow as needed, and having very little success.

I shook my head. "Not in front of the recruits," I whispered. The four of them walked over to stand with Rose and Ronan. I tapped Roland on the shoulder, gesturing for him to join us.

"I really can't wait until we find out all these big secrets," I could hear one of the recruits say as I walked over to the group.

"All right," Anders said, "you have your 'things just got even more interesting' expression on. Spill it."

"It seems that they didn't _want_ anyone from Ser Ronan's group to return," I told them. "The opening to the deep roads had been collapsed. We found the bodies of the darkspawn that escaped just before it was, and the templars who set the bombs."

"So I take it that means no broodmother killing for us?"

"Sorry, love. I know you were looking forward to it. I'll make it up to you. Maybe we can find a couple ogres to slaughter on the way home." Anders only laughed in reply.

"What now, then?" Roland asked.

"Well… we're not expected home for more than another week. And I _think_ we're only a day and a half from Denerim by horse?" He nodded in confirmation. "So, I say detour. Go there first, and then it's three days by horse to Amaranthine. Still home early."

"And what happens to me then?" Ronan asked.

I shrugged. "Up to you. You either return to Amaranthine with us and undergo the Joining, or we part ways in Denerim. Your life is your own." He nodded, but didn't have anything else to say.

"Well, I think Denerim first seems reasonable," Anders said. "Alistair may feed us: that could be nice. And staying in the palace again will certainly beat camping."

"Not staying in the palace," I said. "We can't let it look like Alistair shows us any more favoritism than he already does. We haven't been invited for an official visit, so we'll stay in the compound. It's attached to the palace, and the repairs are finally done."

"Still beats a tent," he said. "Does it have bedrooms at least?"

"Just one, I think it was Duncan's," I said. "Only been there a few times, and the repairs from the blight hadn't been completed yet last time. The rest was dorm-style. A few rooms with a couple bunk beds in each."

"I call the bedroom!" Roland said.

"Keep dreaming," Anders told him. "That's the Commander's room."

"You _would_ say that," Roland replied, pouting.

"He would," I agreed, "and he'd be right. I never pull rank unless it comes to me getting a comfy bed with a door. Spend eighteen years sharing a room with thirty other people and you'd do the same."

"If it makes you feel any better I don't plan on getting much sleep," Anders said with a grin.

"No," Roland said, "no, I can't say that makes me feel any better at all."

"Maker's breath," I muttered, "the compound sleeps at least fifty, you can all spread out into different rooms if it's that important. We have a bigger worry for now. How are we supposed to sleep _tonight_?" I looked over at the recruits, they were all shivering, and on some the snow was higher than waist-deep.

"We may have to ask the Circle to put us up," Anders said, groaning.

"I don't relish the idea of going back there," I said. "I've only been back once since I got out, and that was the whole mess with the demons."

"Eh, I'm sure they cleaned up the bodies by now," Oghren said.

"That isn't really the point," I said. "Although remembering stepping over the corpses of everyone I grew up with won't make it any more pleasant."

"Maybe we can take some mages home with us," Anders suggested.

"Perhaps," I said. "But… bringing Ronan…"

Anders nodded. "Isn't there an inn not far from here? On the docks?"

"Closed for renovations," I said. "That's why we didn't stop on the way. Oghren's wife works there."

"I still can't believe you found _two_ women willing to marry you," Anders said to him, shaking his head.

"Aye, well, having the stones to actually _ask_ helps," Oghren replied, snorting with laughter.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Anders snapped. "Besides, I'm sure you just got drunk first, right?" he said, arching a brow. "Actually, I must say I'm amazed you didn't accidentally vomit on her. Does she even _let_ you hold the baby?"

"True, I could set it on fire with my mind," Oghren replied. "Wait, no… that's _you_." I walked off, shaking my head.

After we had told the recruits we'd be staying inside for the night, to their relief, I helped Caitlin with her tent. "Are they always like this?" she asked me, watching the ongoing battle of insults between Anders and Oghren.

"Pretty much," I replied. "Don't let the act fool you, though. It's all for show. I can't even count how many times I've walked in on them laughing and playing cards over drinks, only for the insults to start up the second one of them notices me."

"_Why?"_

"Maker only knows," I replied. "Some man thing, I guess." She laughed and nodded in response.

We hopped back into the wagon, hoping the last couple miles to the docks would be easy. The snow got worse as we went on. Oghren was carefully following the road along Lake Calenhad, complaining about how the horses would pull us all underwater if we didn't camp soon.

"Just get us to the docks," I told him. "Stop a second, though. Roland, switch places with me. You're a better horseman than I am." Oghren pulled the wagon to a halt and Roland climbed over the side. "Be careful with him," I warned, stroking the animal's mane.

"That's sweet of you, Maggie. Don't worry, I'll be fine," Roland said.

"I was _talking_ to you," I told him. "Don't hurt my horse!" Roland only laughed as he climbed into the saddle. "Right, so who has a helmet," I asked, climbing into the wagon.

"I do," Arthur said. "I hate it, it's absurd. Where did you even get these anyways?" He passed me one of the winged Warden helmets from the Orlesian armor stash at home.

"You don't like these?" I asked. "I think they're really neat looking." Alistair had worn one almost throughout the entire blight.

"Let me see," Anders said, reaching out. I passed it over and he inspected it briefly before grinning and putting it on.

"See!" I said. "Fantastic looking!"

"That is completely ridiculous looking," Ronan said, glancing at Anders.

"Well, sure, with the robes it might be," Anders agreed. "But with the full Warden armor? _Very_ sharp. We should wear them for Alistair's wedding." He passed the helmet back reluctantly.

"No, not ridiculous with the robes. Just ridiculous. It has _wings_, for Andraste's sake. Wings."

Anders made a dismissive noise. "So? Your normal uniform has a steel top and a robe bottom. _That _is ridiculous."

"It is," Ronan agreed. "And that helmet was clearly designed by the same people. I suspect it was mages. Only a mage would wear that many colors at once voluntarily."

"Yes, well, laugh it up now," I told him. "You're the one who will be wearing it."

"What? Why?"

"Do you want anyone to recognize you?" I asked him.

"How would they? I wore one of those bucket helms."

"And the Knight Commander never saw you without it?"

He groaned. "Fine," Ronan said, pulling the helmet on. I passed him one of our spare cloaks to go with it.

"There you go. Unless he gets too close you'll just look like any other Warden. Just stay behind Roland and Arthur, they're both as tall as you."

"Anders is taller than all of us," he pointed out.

"Yes, and Anders is famed for escaping from the tower seven times. People will be looking at him. You stay in the back, keep your mouth shut, and hopefully we can get out early tomorrow before anyone is the wiser."

"Does Maggie have another brilliant plan?" Oghren called from the bench.

"Yes," Anders replied. "Shall we put our armor on before going across the lake?"

"Knock it off," I protested. "I'm trying to _prevent_ problems this time, not cause them!"

"I hope this works," Ronan said. "I feel like an utter fool in this thing. Have I mentioned to you that it has _wings_ yet?"

"Just be glad I'm not suggesting we cut your hair," I warned.

"Please don't," he said.

"Then keep the helmet on," I warned him.

"You do realize you're not _my_ commanding officer," Ronan said, pouting slightly but making no move to remove the helm.

"I know. I don't have to boss them around nearly as much. They've all learned arguing with me is a lost cause and giving me my way has side effects like everyone living."

We were able to stable our horses with the templars on the mainland for a few silvers before going over to the docks. They set off some kind of signal that we were waiting and I could see the approach of the the small boat after a moment.

The new recruits were understandably thrilled that they would be seeing both the Circle of Magi and the capital city of Ferelden before becoming Wardens. "I'm not sure where they'll put us up," I warned. "We may just have to sleep in the lobby. But wherever it is, _no wandering_, understood?" Everyone looked around nervously. "Look, I grew up in there. You do not want to bump into some teenage version of me practicing her fire spells, you're liable to have all your hair burnt off, dwarven resistance to magic or no."

"Or some teenage version of me up to no good with a fellow apprentice in the corner," Anders added with a laugh. "Who, come to think of it, would also likely be another younger version of our fair Commander." I moved to punch him in the arm but Anders only danced out of my reach.

"Ser Carroll," I said, noticing the templar as the boat approached. "Will you recognize me today, or should I pull out the latest Amaranthine broadsheet? They just put up a new statue, there's a drawing on the third page."

"Very funny, mage," he muttered, lashing the boat to the dock. "Why are you here? Are we having another blood mage uprising?"

"Well, since you came from over there you would be the one to know. Unfortunately we're only here to wait out the storm and perhaps find a recruit or two."

"Haven't you killed all the darkspawn _yet_?" he asked. "What have you been doing?"

"Wow, you know, what no one managed to do for a thousand years I _totally_ should have accomplished in five. Silly me, I must have gotten too busy worrying about my makeup."

He only snorted. "Come on, Greagoir said to hurry. It's snowing out here, you know."

The boatman met my eyes and shrugged, tapping the side of his head. I covered my mouth to hide the giggle I was suppressing. Carroll had become, if anything, even more detached from reality since the last time I was here. My humor was cut short as the tower loomed closer. Watching it rise up on the horizon I found I couldn't remember the many fond memories I'd made growing up, only the images of my friends dead on the ground.

* * *

_A/N: Wow... over 100 reviews! I'm amazed! Thanks so much!_


	27. Are we done pulling rank on each other?

I shuddered at the sound of the tower's massive doors slamming shut behind us. Anders rested his hand on my back. "We'll be gone tomorrow." I nodded mutely, trying not to remember the bodies covering every inch of the floor the last time I was here and failing miserably. He stepped away for a moment and returned as the First Enchanter walked in, standing at my side.

"Come on, Maggie," he whispered, squeezing my hand. "Time to act like the one in charge." I didn't reply and he put an arm around me. "You can do this," he whispered. "Don't remember the dead, remember how many are alive because of you." I finally nodded and shook off my grief before walking over to the First Enchanter, Anders close behind.

"Thank you for putting us up on so little notice," I told him. "We'll be out of your hair soon."

"You know you're always welcome here, child," he assured me.

"Do you have a moment for us to talk?" I asked. He nodded, and directed a templar to lead everyone to one of the unused dorm rooms not far away. Apparently the population of the tower still wasn't enough to warrant all of the large apprentice dorm rooms being used again.

"You're in charge," I told Anders. "Don't let them wander."

"Don't worry, I'll keep them entertained," he assured me. "I've been looking for an excuse to do my Spicy Shimmy."

First Enchanter Irving sighed, a sound I was very familiar with, and gestured for me to follow him. "I should find your choice of recruits surprising," he said as we walked. "But somehow it only seems appropriate. I always thought we were lucky the two of you never became friends. The resulting chaos would have put both of your singular exploits to shame. Tell me, has he run away yet?"

"Not at all," I told him. "Anders is very devoted to our cause. We all owe him our lives many times over."

"I must say, I find that surprising." Irving groaned as he sat behind his desk. The years since I left the tower hadn't been easy on him; age was clearly taking a toll. "Although I could never quite understand him, to be honest. He was an excellent student, and as eager to learn as anyone could hope, but took every chance to escape he could find."

"Why? He joined us willingly." I shrugged. "I'm not here to discuss Anders, though. I trust him with my life, and he trusts me with his. That's enough for me." I gestured to the open door. "May I?" Irving nodded and I closed it before sinking back into the enormous leather chair across from his desk. "You know the worst part about my job?" I asked him.

"The darkspawn, I would imagine."

"Hardly," I said. "Killing them… well, it can actually be almost fun. When else would I get to figure out the awesome combination of a blizzard spell and a lightning storm? Never let anyone try that inside, by the way, if you haven't seen it." He shook his head and smiled slightly. "The worst part is the constant, annoying, never ending assassination attempts. Depending on how broadly you want to define it I'm somewhere between six and ten over the last five years." I explained to him what happened in the Deep Roads, and the group we had found on the hill. I neglected to mention that Ronan was in fact still with us, instead saying one of them had a map on his body. I thought I could trust Irving, but the walls might have ears.

"Templars?" he said. "You're absolutely sure of this?"

"Well, they don't exactly sell the uniforms in the marketplace," I reminded him.

"Have you thought about speaking to Greagoir?" he asked me.

"I wanted to talk to you first," I said. "I don't know how many people are involved with this. I don't know if he's just as much a part of it."

"I would be _more _than surprised," Irving said. "I know neither of you are… fond of each other, but he's an honest man. I've known him for many years. We don't always get along, but conspiracies, secret killings, that's beneath him." Irving sighed. "Even if you don't agree with me, you _must_ know he would never send his own men into the Deep Roads and seal the entrance behind them. He's a father to those boys." I had to admit, Irving was right. The door slammed open before I could reply.

"What is this about, Irving!" an enraged voice called from behind me. "Not only is _Anders_ here but you've welcomed that lunatic Margaret back as well? How can we maintain order when the most famous outlaws from Circle justice are paraded around, reveling in their new status as Wardens?" Irving just sighed, resting his forehead on his hand.

"Hi, Greagoir," I said, holding my arm up to wave above the high back of the chair. He must not have been able to see me.

"I should have guessed," he said, walking over. "And I'll remind you, Margaret, it is _Knight-Commander, _we are hardly on a first name basis."

I shrugged. "Suit yourself. I was hoping to be friendly, but if that's how you want to be, sure. My official title is Commander of the Grey in Ferelden and Arlessa of Amaranthine. I'll settle for just Warden Commander, though. The whole thing is a bit of a mouthful and I don't much care for the Arlessa bit, personally." I raised an eyebrow at his shocked expression. I suppose he'd never met a mage whose rank matched his. That, or perhaps he just expected me to cower, which just goes to show he didn't remember my tower days much. I went more for quiet insolence over nervous terror when it came to templars. Or not so quiet insolence. "Are we done pulling rank on each other yet? Since I do have actual business to discuss."

"Why are you here?" he said, sitting down.

I got up and closed the door. "Maker's breath, just leave the door hanging open? It's like having Alistair follow me around, and he _was_ raised in a barn, so at least he has an excuse." Greagoir looked shocked and I only grinned as I sat back down. "Well, the primary reason is because we have a wagon full of new recruits fresh from Orzammar, and I'd hate to see them freeze to death before we make it home. Not sure if you've ever been there, but it's absurdly warm all the time. This is a bit much for them. But, there's another matter I was hoping to discuss with you." I caught him up on what I'd already told Irving.

"And you're _sure_ they were templars?" he asked me.

"Go out and look on the hill yourself if you doubt me," I said. "About two miles west of here. Yes, I'm very sure." At least his doubts were enough to conform he hadn't been involved.

"I had no idea of this," he said. "I wasn't even aware the Grand Cleric had taken steps against you. I know she doesn't _like_ you," Greagoir added, "but that's hardly a secret." He sighed. "I wouldn't allow anyone under my command to take part in something this distasteful. We serve the Chantry and the Maker, we're not… _assassins_." His mouth twisted with distaste at the word.

"That is a _huge_ relief," I admitted. "I'm getting kind of tired of all these people committing suicide by Grey Warden. How the Grand Cleric sleeps at night sending so many to hopeless deaths is beyond me."

"You've always been too arrogant for your own good," Greagoir said. "You forget that pride is a risk for any mage."

"I'm not arrogant," I replied. "I'm only realistic. I can barely heal a papercut but when it comes to making things die I'm very, very good." I rolled my eyes. "Huzzah for me. I'm the best at a skill that makes me almost universally loathed and has, as mentioned, inspired several attempts on my life. I should throw a party in celebration." I waved a finger in the air in mock cheer. "But, it remains that I've killed ogres without using a bit of magic, while most of the people who come after me are either religious zealots who barely know how to use a blade or templars who expect mages that cower as soon as a smite is leveled at them. I don't wear blades for fashion, I assure you. I've been training on them for more than four years now."

"It still sits poorly with me that you were rewarded by Duncan, but at least you take _this_ seriously. Even if you do grant the honor to people like Anders, who is almost as bad as you were."

I laughed grimly. "If you knew even a tenth of what I did you wouldn't call it an honor. Especially since you're likely to outlive both Anders and myself, and you're _guaranteed_ to outlive some of the recruits I have with me now.

"And your flare for the dramatic lives on," he muttered.

I rolled my eyes and kicked the desk hard enough to shift it. "You know what, _Knight-Commander_? Screw you. Seriously. I've got twenty five years to live until the corruption overtakes me, at which point I get to stomp off to a messy death, and I get to tell all my recruits who _survive_ the Joining ritual that the same thing is three decades in their future, too. So you can take your talk of _honor_ and _reward_ and shove it." I sighed. "And you've managed to do what no one else has in five years. Congratulations, you're the only person to ever get me so angry I betrayed my oath of secrecy. Hope you're happy." Embarrassed, I moved to wipe my eyes, feeling tears threatening to escape. Unfortunately the ice coating my hand only meant I ended up a bigger mess when I was done. The First Enchanter gave Greagoir a murderous glance and handed me a clean handkerchief.

"Sorry," I said after a moment. "It's difficult being back here after the last time. I guess I just reached my breaking point."

"_You_ have nothing to apologize for," Irving said to me, still glaring over the desk at Greagoir. Of course, none of this information had been news to him. Duncan told me he was one of the few outsiders privy to Warden secrets.

"I was… not aware," Greagoir said slowly.

"No, you weren't." I sat with my arms crossed. I was sulking. It might have been an immature thing for me to do, but at least I was mature enough to admit that was exactly what I was doing.

"Why bother will all this?" he asked. "Surely the number of lives lost to your rituals and early deaths couldn't be so much less than those of normal warriors lost to the corruption in fighting."

"You know how everyone says 'only a Warden can defeat an archdemon?'" I asked. He nodded. "Well, there you go. Only a Warden can kill an archdemon. No Wardens? No way to end a blight. Simple as that."

"And you _know_ there will be another blight?" I glanced over at him.

"Of _course _there will," I said, perhaps too dismissively. "Even if one takes the Chantry version of the story as complete truth there are still two Old Gods left out there for the darkspawn to find. They're already searching, too, I've seen them in my dreams. Although Maker knows how many centuries it could take for them to find one and get their numbers back up for a surface assault." I shrugged. "But I can't afford to go on blind faith. I've killed an archdemon and I've killed high dragons. No one could convince me the archdemon was anything more than a corrupted high dragon based on all I saw. If that's the case, well, who knows how many more blights there will be."

"That is not a reassuring thought, Commander," he said.

"Yeah, I hear that a lot. Sorry, comes with the job."

"I can understand your need for secrecy," Greagoir finally said. "I won't reveal this to anyone. And, for whatever it may be worth, I do apologize."

I nodded. "Thank you. And anyways, it is a _huge _relief to know no one here is involved in this madness. If either of you should hear anything I would appreciate you letting me know. The king has made it treason to attempt to prevent a Warden from carrying out their duties. Alistair is obviously well aware of our importance even between the blights and finding out the source of all this is a great concern to him."

"Certainly," Greagoir said. "Is there anything else?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about," I said. He sighed and left. "Still can't stand me, I see," I said to Irving once he was gone.

"Well, you can't really blame him for that," Irving reminded me. "You did help Jowan escape."

"I would have thought ending Uldred's rebellion after he just locked the doors and left every mage to die balanced that out," I muttered.

"Ah, to Greagoir _nothing_ balances out helping a maleficar. I suspect he'll be feeling rather guilty for some time, though."

"Well good," I said. "It's a shame he doesn't see the _real_ threat to life in Thedas." I sighed. "But, to that end, since I'm here I figured why leave without a few new recruits? Anyone promising?"

"Greagoir won't like this," Irving cautioned me. "He doesn't approve of mages leaving Chantry protection."

"Chantry _control_," I corrected him. "And I know he won't, that's why I didn't ask until he left." I managed to smile at my old mentor as I said that. "Besides, you know it's my right. I could just demand to see the class records or grab a few people from the halls at random if I _really _wanted to get on his bad side. I'm asking instead since I trust your judgment about who might be a good candidate. Plus, I had something I wanted to tell you about." Irving raised a grey eyebrow at that. "Do you remember an apprentice named Aidan? He was an elf, very red hair, quite slim. Joined the mages at the Battle of Denerim?"

"Yes, I do," Irving sighed. "It was a great disappointment to lose him, he had such promise. Many mourned his loss, he was well liked among his fellow apprentices."

"I can imagine," I agreed. "I wanted you to know he lives. He snuck off after the battle and rejoined his family in the Denerim alienage."

Irving looked relieved initially, until worry clouded his features. "But telling me this, it's my duty to report it to the templars. When they find him…"

"They'll find him a Warden living in Amaranthine," I completed. "He joined us months ago, Anders is handling his training. He slipped up and healed someone who was injured in the alienage. He would have been found out, but I'm friends with his cousin so she brought him to my attention instead, I wouldn't have said anything otherwise. I thought there may be people who would be relieved to find out he survived the battle."

"There will be," he agreed. "Myself among them. Thank you." I nodded and Irving went off to a cabinet on the wall, rooting through it for several moments. He returned to his desk and passed me a stack of paper.

"Too old," I said, setting a few others aside. "The Joining ritual, it's… not easy. I can't really take anyone much beyond thirty years."

"What about Loghain?" Irving asked.

"That was… an exceptional case," I admitted.

He only shook his head at that before helping me go over the folders. Finally the pile was whittled down to a handful of young mages, all fairly recent graduates of the Harrowing and none with apprentices to mentor.

"Perfect," I said. "Can I meet them?" Irving said he would collect them and meet me in the practice area of the lower library. I stopped to grab Anders on my way there, leaving Rose in charge.

"You wouldn't believe what happened while you were gone," Anders said as we walked the hall.

"I don't know," I said. "I can believe an awful lot."

"One of the Senior Enchanters asked me to come back and give a lecture. About the Architect, and darkspawn use of magic."

"You going to do it?" I asked him. It made more sense for Anders to be asked. He had some experience teaching, I didn't. And I suspected more than a few of the senior enchanters were convinced I was a blood mage before even leaving the tower.

"Maybe. Not sure yet. No idea why they asked _me_ and not you."

"You're the better choice. Everyone likes you, and you've got some teaching and lecturing experience. They're suspicious of me and I'm a lousy teacher. Why not you?" He thought about that for a moment. We reached the library and sat at one of the tables, waiting for the First Enchanter to return with the mages he had recommended. "Strange being back here," I said.

"Like you never left?"

"No, I keep expecting an abomination to rise from the ground and try to kill me," I admitted. "My last visit didn't go well. I have good memories here, too, but it feels like that day just wiped them all out."

"Don't forget, you saved people, at least," Anders said. "Better than the templars could manage. Right of Annulment? Please, they look for any excuse to kill us. Shut the door, toss the key, no more pesky evil mages."

"Speaking of," I said, "don't look, but Cullen is about to walk by."

"Wasn't he the one who was hopelessly in love with some apprentice?"

"Yeah, _me_," I said. "Not anymore, though, since I wouldn't slaughter every mage in my path. Hopefully he won't notice me." I wasn't that lucky. Cullen froze, staring at me through narrowed eyes.

"_You_," he hissed.

"Hello, Cullen," I replied. I could see a white glow begin to form around him. "Don't you dare," I snapped. "I may be a mage but I'm also a Grey Warden and I _will_ defend myself."

"You're a maleficar, you spared the others, your conspirators. I remember that day, you trying to bring me to their side. Don't think I haven't forgotten! Do you know how many died because of your schemes?" The glow receded as he spoke, though.

"Cullen, I _stopped_ Uldred, I wasn't working with him. And less died than there would have been if it wasn't for me," I said. "Keep walking, please. I don't have the patience to argue with you today."

"I used to think you weren't like the rest of them," he snarled.

"Did I ever do anything to give you that idea?" I asked him, honestly curious. I was never rude to Cullen, because he was never rude to me. I wasn't so cruel as to lead him on, though I knew how he felt. Everyone in the tower did. "And I'm _not_ like the rest of them. I'm not afraid of my own power, and I actually use it for good instead of sitting here waiting to get old."

"It's not right," he said, ignoring my question. "Only people like you have that much power. How can everyone else defend themselves against mages? They should just… take care of you as soon as you show signs. It would be a kindness."

I could argue that I'd never attacked an innocent person in my life, but it wouldn't even be worth the effort. Cullen was too far gone. I had no idea why Greagoir hadn't had him reassigned to some out of the way Chantry, far from mages. "I'm sorry for what happened to you," I sighed. "But no sane person would ever agree to slaughtering children simply because they have magic. Have you even _thought_ about what you're saying? We're not all like Uldred, and I don't want to continue this discussion."

"I'll remind you the Warden Commander saved _your_ life as well, Cullen," a voice spoke up. I looked over to see Greagoir standing near the library door, accompanied by Irving and several young mages. Surprised, I nodded to him in thanks as Cullen stormed off.

"Is it _safe_ for him to be here?" Anders asked. "He just told us it would be a kindness for all mages to be killed. Won't he just start slaughtering apprentices some day?"

"Probably," one of the mages behind the First Enchanter said. Greagoir gave him a dirty look.

"He's not armed," Greagoir said with a sigh. "And he no longer has the mental discipline to properly use his templar skills successfully. If he would tell us what actually _happened_ we might be able to help him."

"Wynne didn't tell you?" I asked. He shook his head. "He was trapped in some kind of force field, just beyond the Harrowing chamber," I said. "When I got there he thought I wasn't real. Apparently Uldred had been trying to break him with, um, a desire demon that pretended to be me." I flushed, looking down.

"Ouch," Anders said. "Poor bastard. It sounds like he's got the real you and his vision mixed up. He seems to think you were actually there and involved the entire time." I nodded.

"That would explain why his vitriol is often directed specifically at you," Greagoir said. "Perhaps now we can actually help him, knowing what he went through."

"I hope so," I told him. "I would have told you sooner, I just assumed Wynne would give a full report."

"Wynne has been very hesitant to speak of that day," Irving said. Well, I couldn't blame her for that. It didn't rank highly for me, either.

"Understandable," I said. "But enough about the past. Darkspawn don't kill themselves."

"They might as well and save us the time" Anders said. "I bet it would be less painful for them." We shared a laugh over that briefly before turning our attention to the mages.

I sat back while Anders tested their spells and shields, stepping in occasionally when it came to more complex destruction and entropy techniques. I noticed he was talking the entire time, asking questions and pressing them for answers. One protested at the distraction. "That's the _point_," Anders said without a pause in his attack. "You may be dodging one attack while aiming another, or healing someone while fighting goes on around you on all sides. You need to be able to focus even with distractions. _Especially_ with distractions."

They still grumbled but didn't protest openly again. He was right, after all. We finally narrowed it down to just two of the mages, the ones who could manage to keep their shields steady and didn't let attacks dissipate in the face of Anders' nonstop chatter. They promised to be ready to leave with us the next morning. I had hoped to say hello to Wynne, if only because I knew I'd never hear the end of it otherwise, but she was out of the tower. It's funny, for someone who tried so sodding hard to convince me to return to the circle and "bring it into the future," she got away every chance she had.

We finally managed to get back to the room they had offered us long after the others had gone to bed, eat dinner, and pass out in exhaustion. I woke to the sound of someone pounding on the door in the middle of the night. Still in my robes, I stumbled, bleary eyed, to investigate, grabbing my daggers before I opened it. A few recruits raised their heads but went back to sleep quickly when I waved them off.

"Yes?" I said to an unfamiliar templar. "It's the _middle of the night._"

"Apologies, Commander," he said, "but I believe these are yours." I looked over his shoulder to see a very disheveled Rose and Roland, both examining their own boots and blushing furiously. Roland was still in his armor, but Rose had managed to acquire blue apprentice robes from somewhere. I looked at her attire and raised an eyebrow.

I groaned. "They are," I was forced to admit. "What did they do?" There was the obvious theft of apprentice robes, which was a strange thing for anyone to take, but particularly out of character for Rose. I suspected there was more, though.

The templar flushed. "They were found in one of the classrooms in a… compromising position." So much for Rose's protests against my 'matchmaking.' I managed to keep a straight face despite my overwhelming desire to roar with laughter, made all the worse by their obvious embarrassment.

Rose smacked her hand over her face, groaning with embarrassment. Roland smirked slightly. "Very well," I sighed. "Thank you, I can take this from here." The templar saluted and left. I turned to the two of them. "A _classroom?_" I shook my head. "I must say, impressive. Even I never dared that. I really expected better of both of you," I added. Rose began to stammer an apology. "I mean, really. You didn't even think to ask me or Anders? We both grew up here, each of us must know at least dozen places where no one would find you. Like behind that tapestry at the end of the hall. It covers an alcove, I think there was a statue in it once…" I shrugged and turned to return to my bunk. "Oh well, goodnight."

I climbed the small ladder to my bed, not checking to see if they followed me into the room. "Was that... what I suspect it was?" Anders said from the bed below mine, keeping just quiet enough not to wake everyone else.

"I think so," I said, hopping back down so we could whisper. "But I certainly don't want details. They should be grateful I told them where to go hide instead of yelling at them for wandering."

"Fifty silvers says he was searching everywhere for a set of templar armor," Anders said, chuckling.

"Not a bet I'd take," I said. "And that counts as those details I'd rather not know."

"I always figured 'the templar and the naughty apprentice' was a mage-specific deviancy," Anders went on, ignoring me.

"I will freeze you to your bunk, Anders. Don't doubt me, you wouldn't be the first."

"The real shame is, I _have_ templar armor," he said, blithely ignoring me. "He could have borrowed it."

"_What?_" Anders, apparently unaware of my surprise, was examining his nails casually.

"Oh? I never told you? Had it for ages, used it to sneak out a couple times. Worked like a charm, until they caught on and started checking for Chantry amulets. Never could get my hands on one of those, but I kept the armor. Anyways, I grabbed the stuff I left here after my last escape. Can't believe no one noticed it and took it away." Anders gestured to the box next to him.

"I… see," I said.

"On an unrelated note, do you realize you _never_ throw anything away? Maker's breath, you must have fifty sets of robes you don't even _wear _anymore at home. I actually stumbled on your old apprentice robes not long before we left."

"Huh. I thought I got rid of those years ago," I said.

"Nope. I found them," he said. "Oh, just ignore me, I'm tired." He yawned theatrically. "It simply came to mind because I'm trying to decide if I should just toss the armor away. Not sure what I'd do with it, after all." He looked over at me and winked. "What do you think?"

"It seems a waste to just throw perfectly good armor away," I told him. "I'm sure we could think of _something_ to do with it."

* * *

_As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing!_


	28. As friendly as the situation calls for

Standing in the atrium of the tower I triple-checked that we had everyone and everything we arrived with, and that the new mages were completely sure they wanted to join us. Waiting for the templars to open the massive tower doors I felt myself fill with the irrational fear that they would refuse to let me leave. I could see Anders shifting his weight from one foot to the next, chewing on his nails. I wasn't the only one afraid of being locked back up.

"Would you _relax_?" Oghren said. "You're both making the recruits jumpy."

"Sorry," I said automatically, not actually relaxing in the least.

"What? I'm fine," Anders said, not looking fine at all.

Finally the doors opened. I managed to wrestle up enough self control to walk out at a normal pace, not run. Anders wasn't so lucky, or simply didn't care. He all but skipped out, turning his face to the sky as soon as he was clear of the doorway. "Ahhh," he sighed dramatically. "There is nothing- _nothing _- better than fresh air and freedom."

Carroll was standing on the dock, waiting to escort us back over. "Leaving so soon," he said, not sounding as though he really cared either way.

"Aw, will you miss us?" Anders teased.

"No," he said.

"I'm hurt," Anders said, placing a hand over his heart as we set off across the lake.

Carroll only rolled his eyes, looking our group over. "You're taking Brighid?" he said suddenly.

"I'll miss you, Carroll," the young mage said in a lilting voice, shifting on the boat's bench to sit by him. "I'm going to be a Grey Warden, though. Isn't that _exciting?_ And I'm outside! That's even better!" She looked up, squinting at the sun. "I mean, look at all that _sky_. Just goes on and on! Wow."

"You know I could talk to Greagoir," he said. "Tell him you shouldn't be allowed to leave. Because you're… um…. a bad mage." He nodded forcefully.

She only giggled at that. "Don't be silly," she protested finally. He sighed, lashing the boat to the dock. Brighid looked around quickly before getting out of the boat. Seeing, or not seeing, whatever she was searching for, she jumped to her feet and kissed the templar quickly before climbing out and saying goodbye again.

Obviously miserable, Carroll unlashed the boat and headed back to the tower for our second group. With the addition of two more people we couldn't cram everyone in at once.

"Isn't he an absolute sweetheart?" the young woman said to no one in particular as we stood on the shore. Anders and I had crossed in the first group, with Arthur and Ronan, both circle mages, and Othmar from the Orzammar group.

"He's an absolute _idiot_," Anders muttered, too quiet for her to hear.

"Yes, well, so is she," the other Circle recruit, a man named Dermott said quietly. "The perfect pair, they could sit and look cute and confused together." She seemed _fine_ last night.

"Oh dear," I said, looking at her.

"She _is_ a good mage," Desmond said. "Practically a savant when it comes to the fade. Just a bit, I don't know, oblivious." He shrugged. "Maybe that's why she's so good. No complex thoughts to distract her. Nothing in that pretty head but puppies, rainbows, and spellcraft."

"Won't this be exciting," Anders said, shaking his head. "No wonder Irving was so keen on us taking her."

We took an unnamed dirt road, according to Roland it was a more direct route than the North Road would be to Denerim. He insisted it would get us there in a day, although I had my doubts. The path was heavily rutted from the farmer's carts, and because of the snow we couldn't see the ruts very well, leading to several times we had to stop so mages could clear the road with fire spells. Roland rode up alongside me as the sky began to glow from the setting sun.

"So, my estimate was a bit off," he admitted.

"You don't say," I replied. "Where are we? Do you even know? Please tell me you know."

"Of course I do," he said. "We're in Ferelden." Roland grinned at that.

"Very reassuring," I said. "Thanks. Can you perhaps narrow that down a bit?"

"_Northern_ Ferelden."

"You're cleaning the stables when we get home, you know," I said, rolling my eyes.

He laughed. "We're not far," he said finally. "I can see the Hafter River in the distance already. You might be able to if you were taller, or stood on the wagon." He sighed. "Maybe another day. I'm used to travel by foot, I think I overestimated the horses."

"Wonderful," I muttered. "Does your fantastic height happen to show you any villages on that horizon? Or an inn?"

"I could lift you on my shoulders," Anders offered. "So long as you promised not to kick."

"No way," I said. "I'm too heavy, you'd drop me. Remember when you tried to carry me up the stairs?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'd be fine. Remember the deep roads?" he snickered.

"I knew it!" Roland said. "Oghren said you snuck off to… butter the southern pony- his words, not mine, but Rose said 'oh no, there's _no way _the Commander would ever be so irresponsible. Anders, maybe, but not her.' Ha! I _knew _it!" he laughed as Anders made a noise of protest and I groaned in embarrassment.

"There's an inn maybe an hour from here," Ronan spoke up from his horse. "Filthy, and I think the owner's an apostate- that's why I was sent there. Never could prove anything. If he is mage he's not a very strong one. Four walls and a roof, though." He paused for a second. "Providing everyone can manage to keep their armor on between here and there. What is _wrong_ with all of you? The deep roads, the tower? Don't you people have _beds_ at home? And don't tell me this is another of those Warden things."

"Fine, I won't, then. Even though it is. And of course we have beds at home," Anders said. "Shame I haven't _seen_ mine in close to a month. I miss Ser Pounce-a-lot."

"That's his cat," I provided. "I forget I have a home sometimes," I mused. "Still seems so… odd not to be living out of a tent." I sighed. "Let's just head for this inn." Glancing back at Ronan I issued a warning. "No mage-hunting for you, though. I don't care if we get there and he's shooting lightning out his arse while cooking dinner with flames from his eyes. Wardens don't hunt apostates, and if you travel with the Wardens you live by our rules."

"Understood," he said, looking not particularly thrilled about that.

"You know, if we get there and he's shooting lightning out his arse _while_ cooking I think I'd like to find a different inn," Anders added. "I certainly don't plan to _eat_ there, that's for sure. Especially not if the lightning is a side effect of his cooking. Although if it's not I may ask for the spell. Something like that could prove interesting at dull parties."

"Well, obviously," I agreed. "It would make a real mess of your robes, though. But we won't run him in to the Chantry for it. Perhaps just the closest local lord so they can warn people of the unsanitary food conditions. Although having eaten the king's cooking I'm sure it couldn't be worse."

"Having eaten _your_ cooking I find the idea that you would say someone else's food is awful a horrifying thought," Roland said.

"Har har," I said. "Besides, who do you think taught me? It wasn't exactly covered in the tower."

"Then how come Anders can cook?" he countered.

"Because my mother taught me," Anders replied. "And I brushed up a bit every time I escaped."

I shrugged. "I went to the tower too young to learn to cook beforehand, and left the day after my harrowing. Apprentices that escape are almost always made tranquil the moment they're caught, so I didn't plan to try and get out until it was too late for them to do that to me." No one had any reply for that, but Ronan did look appropriately scandalized. I suppose he never suspected mages put such long term thought into escape plans.

I saw a small cluster of buildings, barely large enough to qualify as a hamlet much less a village. "Up there," Ronan provided. The inn was filthy, as promised, but vacant. I didn't get any sense of magical prowess from the owner, who simply seemed to be a middle aged man that let his eyes linger on our younger recruits for far too long. No fire or lightning, and no food available. We had to sleep in three rooms at the inn, two for the women and one for the men. I ended up with Rose and Brighid. "Do you and Anders ever… wish you could have children?" Rose asked me in a soft voice that night, Brighid softly snoring beside her.

"Not really," I admitted, surprised by the suddenness of the question. "I'm not exactly _maternal_ after all. I can't see being a parent fitting into a life of killing darkspawn, and I certainly don't want to retire and spend my days knitting sweaters and cooking. If I did I'd just be branded an apostate and hunted anyways. But there's added complications for us."

"The mage thing?" she asked.

"Yes," I agreed. "In the tower, if you get pregnant, well… first off, they're not happy about it. But they take the baby, automatically. It belongs to the Chantry. If it doesn't turn out to be a mage I guess they become priests, brothers or templars." I sighed. "We get used to being _very_ careful to prevent that from happening. I feel horrid telling people about that aspect of the Wardens, since I can't really empathize. I feel bad, and I understand in an abstract way how it may be painful, but since I knew I couldn't have a baby since before I even knew how one would _make_ a baby, well, it didn't change things for me. If anything, it made things less complicated since I don't have to worry about being careful so much." I looked up at the ceiling. "You and Roland…?" I asked.

"What? No, just a general question." She groaned. "Roland and I aren't…"

"Of course," I said. "Sure you're not." I laughed softly. "You sound like me a few years ago." I imitated my old protests. "There's nothing going on between Anders and I, we're just friends, anything more would be irresponsible. He's only got one thing on his mind and I'll end up hurt. What would people say? Blah, blah, blah."

"I take it that didn't last?" she said.

"Oh, I managed to keep it up for months. Long after I knew it was a lost cause since I'm pigheaded like that. What can I say, though? The man's completely relentless."

"I'm going to be disturbed by any similarities, not say anything else, and try to sleep," Rose said, sighing.

A horrible nightmare startled me awake not long before dawn, thankfully before I could scream out loud. However, the sensation of approaching darkspawn didn't fade with consciousness. "Maggie?" Rose whispered after a moment. It had disturbed her rest as well, apparently.

"I know," I told her. We woke Brighid and the three of us quickly got dressed and ready. As I was tying my boots someone began to pound on the door. Rose ran to open it, nearly knocking over Brighid in the process, who was all but bouncing from one end of the room to the other in her excitement about her "first actual real Warden fight!'

Anders, hair hanging at his shoulders and in desperate need of a shave, was standing at the door. "Ready?" he asked. I noticed that, like me, he opted for the faster to pull on robes over the far more time consuming light armor.

"Ready," I agreed, standing up and strapping on my daggers and staff. "Did you check the others?"

"Went there first, figured you'd already know without my telling you."

"Brilliant as always," I said, squeezing his hand as I walked out of the room. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd get more rest," he said, grinning. "_More_ darkspawn, though? What is this, the bloody Anderfels? They shouldn't be on the surface in a group this size."

"Come on," I added to the others. "Grab everything, no use coming back here. We've got a bit of time."

"How long?" Anders asked me.

"Half hour, hour maybe?" I shrugged. "More than enough to throw everything in the wagon."

"Should we go towards them?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Won't need to. They're headed towards us. Towards them is all woods, it'll be a tougher fight. I'd rather face them in the open where we can see. Let them enter this clearing." They must have been in the area and picked up the high concentration of Wardens like a beacon. "We can cut them off here before they get close to the houses." I waited at the head of the stairs for everyone. "All right, recruits, it's going to be a big group. Maybe fifty. Keep your mind on the fight, pay attention to your surroundings, listen to everyone around you. If you see someone about to get attacked from behind let them know, and they'll do the same for you. You can all do this, you wouldn't be here otherwise. Understood?"

"Yes,ser," came several replies. Others simply nodded.

"If anyone gets hurt I want to know about it and see it," Anders added. "If its bad call me right away, I'll heal you mid battle, but anything minor has to be checked, too. Let me know after."

We stomped down the stairs, pausing to throw the room keys on the bar on our way out. Dropping our packs in the wagon, I led everyone to the far side of the clearing, as close to the woods as I was willing to get. "Mages, try and avoid fire spells directed at the woods. This area's been through enough, we don't need to burn down the forest, too. Everyone else, keep an eye on the mages. Remember, we can stun, freeze, or paralyze large numbers of them. Run a few through before the spell's worn off and you're making all our jobs easier."

"You're not in armor," Anders commented as we crouched, waiting.

"Neither are you," I countered.

"No time," he said. "Those buckles take forever when I don't have you to help me figure out what straps wrap around where."

"So you need me to help dress you now?" I teased. "I just went for robes because they're faster."

"Well I'd be just fine if someone hadn't insisted on buying me armor," Anders replied. "If I'm going to need your help with clothing I'd much rather it be in getting them _off_, not on."

I chuckled at that. "Almost here," I said after a moment. He nodded and joined me in conjuring a storm they would need to pass through to reach us.

The group was large but manageable, particularly since we had so many people with us. I caught a glimpse of Runi taunting several hurlocks so Helka could sneak up behind them for a well placed backstab. Brighid was giggling manically as she sent lightning cascading from one darkspawn to the next. Ronan even had another chance to use his templar skills on an emissary, Othmar and Tekla helping him draw it away from the main group so he wouldn't accidentally drain any of our mages.

I focused on watching everyone else, paralyzing and freezing darkspawn whenever I saw someone about to get overwhelmed.

"Anyone get hurt?" Anders asked once the fighting had ended. "I don't care how minor, I just need to check it out," he said when no one spoke up.

"I got a small bite mark," Dermott said. "Not bad, though. It didn't even clamp down, I killed it first.

"I split my knuckles open," Brinjar said. "Wasn't them, just this damnable cold surface weather." Telka nodded in agreement, displaying the chapped skin on her shield hand. I noticed both were splattered with darkspawn blood.

"Heal them for now," I told Anders, gesturing for Roland to come closer at the same time.

"If we headed straight home would we make it by nightfall? I need you to be _very sure_."

"Maybe?" he said. "If not, by lunch tomorrow at the latest." I nodded.

"Commander?" Ronan called. I turned to look at him, standing with Othmar and Tekla. "Something you should know," he said.

"What's wrong?"

"The emissary I killed… it talked."

I called Oghren and Anders over. "Take us to the body." We walked over and Oghren flipped the corpse so it was face up. There was no mistaking it now, this was definitely one of the mutated intelligent darkspawn we had fought in Amaranthine. Anders sucked in a breath as Oghren cursed softly. "What did it say? Word for word if you can."

"Be taking the Warden witch, kill the others."

A chill ran down my spine at that. I sat on the ground, oblivious to the snow. "Fantastic."

"I… figured they might mean you," Ronan admitted.

"Who else could it be?" I sighed. "Right, well, nothing we can do about it now. Let's search the bodies and get moving. We need to get home."

"We're not going to Denerim?" Ronan asked me.

"I can't keep dragging this many recruits across Ferelden. We'll get them settled and then head to Denerim in a day or two. Nathaniel will most likely want to come, anyways."

"Makes sense," he agreed. "I hate to be a bother, but do you have a waterskin?"

I handed mine over and Ronan took a small drink before spitting it to the ground. "Problem?" I asked.

"I got him on the neck," he said, gesturing to the emissary. "Splashed me in the face."

"You nug-licking _ass_," Oghren muttered.

"_What_?" Ronan said, shocked.

"You went and got their blood in your mouth, and you say 'what'?" Oghren shook his head. "Don't you know anything about darkspawn?"

He paled. "Oh…."

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Oghren agreed, shaking his head. "Well, nothing to be done now."

I climbed to my feet, brushing snow off my robes. "Come here," I said, and rested a hand on each side of his face, closing my eyes. I dropped my hands after a moment. "Nothing. Not yet, at least."

"What does that mean?"

"Just that. Nothing, yet. You might get corrupted, you might not. It isn't an exact art, and I won't know for sure for at least a few more hours."

"You can't just… heal me?" he asked, looking at Anders.

"_If _you get sick, which isn't a guarantee, there's only one cure," Anders said. He clapped Ronan on the shoulder. "Welcome aboard. Sorry."

"All the more reason to get moving," I reminded them. "I'd like to get out of here before everyone in this town wakes up and demands we entertain them with stories of our adventures or something."

We made it to the keep just after nightfall. I jumped down from my horse and glanced around at the chaos. Dozens of men and women were standing in rough formation practicing stances and techniques. In another corner a sizable group of mages were laughing as they cast spells into the air.

"Maker's breath," Anders muttered. "When did we become so popular?"

"No idea," I said. "Shame it wasn't sooner, though. This many people would have made short work of the Architect."

"Commander," someone called, causing every head in the courtyard to perk up. I turned to see Varel walking down the stairs, cloak flapping behind him. "I see you've been busy. We've got all the recruits in the barracks, Nathaniel figured they shouldn't get permanent rooms until after the Joining."

"Good idea," I agreed. "We should do the joining first thing tomorrow, though. And we need to talk, in my office. Soon as possible. Let Sigrun and Nathaniel know, and I want Garavel there, too." I looked back at our group. "We were ambushed between Highever and Orzammar. Caitlin's already undergone the joining, she'll need quarters. Everyone else is from Orzammar or the Circle."

He gestured for two guards and spoke to them briefly. One led the recruits to the barracks, the other brought Caitlin inside to track down a maid that could find her a bedroom.

"Thank you," I told him, relieved to have someone to handle details once more. "Let everyone know they'll be hitting the deep roads at first light. We were ambushed again this morning, a few are at risk of the plague. I can't afford to wait with them."

Varel saluted briefly, hopefully just for the recruits benefit, and returned to the keep. Once in my room I cleaned up and slipped on fresh robes before sitting at the foot of the bed and falling to my back. "I never liked staying in one place," Anders said, sitting next to me. "Now, though? All I can think of is how glad I am to be back. For that I blame you." I grinned up at him.

"Let's cancel the meeting and lock ourselves in here," I suggested.

"You are a temptress," he said. "But I suspect it's too late for that. Judging by the noise in the hall I think Nathaniel is on his way."

"You two are decent, yes?" a voice called.

"We are," I answered.

"No less than usual," Anders added.

"I don't suppose you know why every apostate in northeastern Ferelden has arrived here hoping to join us?" Nathaniel asked as he walked in, giving me a suspicious glance.

"Nice to see you, too," I said rolling my eyes as I sat up. "I may have let something slip to a connection I have in the Mage's Collective," I said. "But I didn't expect anything like this." I grinned. "We have more mages here now than were present at the whole of the battle of Ostagar."

"And three templars have been by to ask questions since you left," he added.

"Screw them," I muttered. "We may have our way out of that little problem soon enough." I followed Anders into the office, sitting next to him by the fireplace.

"Glad you said that," Nathaniel laughed, putting a few logs in the fireplace, sitting down so I could cast a fire to light it. "I told them they should come back and deal with you if they had a problem. _That_ send them running fast enough."

Anders tossed his head back, laughing. "Does it make me a bad person because I wish I could have seen them running in fear of a mage?" he finally asked.

"I hardly think that's the _only_ reason you're a bad person," Nathaniel said with a laugh. Anders held up a hand threateningly and smiled before we went into telling each other about our respective recruits. When we were finally joined by Oghren, Sigrun, Varel, and Garavel I told them about how we were attacked in the deep roads, and Arthur's theory about who the spy could be. Garavel excused himself to speak with Arthur and Aidan about what they saw and find the guard in question.

"I want him alive," I warned. "He has questions to answer." The guard captain nodded before leaving. "So, now the worse news," I said, before telling them about the talking emissary, and the uncertain news from the Legion.

"Goody," Sigrun muttered. "I was just thinking things were dull around here."

"Any ideas?" I asked. "My personal thought is one of the surviving followers of either the Mother or the Architect is trying to take over their position and looking for us out of revenge. Architect, most likely. I don't think the Mother's followers were sane enough to organize anything without her."

"Seems like a reasonable assumption," Nathaniel agreed. "Maybe someone should take a group out to the silverite mines and see if anything's changed since we were there last? Maybe one of them set up in his old lab, or recovered his papers?"

"We have the papers," Anders said. "I took them all. I've been trying to study them to figure out darkspawn magic, see if there's a way we can counter it or adapt it for our own use."

"All the more reason for them to hate us," Sigrun added. I nodded in agreement.

"So, the joining tomorrow?" Nathaniel asked after we shared theories on our latest problem.

"We have to," I said. "We were ambushed, a few of the recruits got blood on open wounds, one got bit, and Ronan managed to get some in his mouth."

"Sodding idiot," Oghren interjected.

"I say we send the new Wardens. If any of you want to wait by the deep roads barrier feel free. I figure I should, since I am in charge technically. I'd like Anders to as well in case someone gets hurt."

"Who should lead groups?" Nathaniel asked, walking to my desk.

"Rose, Roland, Arthur, Aidan, Cormac, and Tobias," I said. "I think Caitlin's _too _new, she can't sense anything yet." He took notes of that. I gave him details on our recruits and their skills.

"They may want to each go out twice, we've got more than fifty recruits. Ten each seems too much."

"Fine," I said. My head snapped up, looking at Nathaniel. "More than _fifty_?"

"The winter's been rough, maybe people find darkspawn a fair trade for a steady meal?" he suggested. But, with the seven you brought we have fifty eight recruits. Fifteen of them are mages, including your two. We even have one Avvar man, a scout."

"An Avvar? Really?" Anders looked surprised by that, I had to admit I was, too. Although they descended from the Alamarri just as we did, since Ferelden united as a single nation they had been isolated deep in the Frostback mountains. The Avvar rarely left their tribes, and most went their entire lives without ever interacting with lowlanders like us. They were almost as insular and reclusive as the Chasind.

"He keeps to himself mostly," Nathaniel said. "Excellent scout, though. I suspect he may be better with a bow than I am, but he always manages to mess up one or two easy shots. I think he lets me win. From what I managed to get out of him he lost his wife and baby in the blight, and decided spending the rest of his life fighting the darkspawn would be a suitable form of revenge." Nathaniel shrugged. "Makes sense to me. He seems to think I don't want him here, although I have no idea why."

"With your friendly demeanor?" Sigrun teased. "I have no idea where he could get such an idea."

"I am as friendly as the situation calls for," Nathaniel said with a scoff. "Should I take them drinking and sing war songs?"

"We did," Oghren laughed. "You shoulda seen Maggie once she had a few bottles of Antivan brandy in her. First she was singing dirty songs, then her and Rose got all weepy, and then she climbed up on sparkle-fingers over there and started—"

"Oghren!" I snapped. "No one needs… details. Particularly when everyone else involved can't remember."

"I can," Anders said, leaning back on the sofa, arms behind his head. "Wonderful, wonderful memories."

At that point our conversation took a decided turn for the frivolous as we compared it to earlier drinking stories. Captain Garavel returned just as Anders was telling the one about when he set a blanket on fire and Oghren rushed in wearing nothing but smallclothes and a battleaxe.

"Got him?" I asked.

"He's in the dungeon. I took the liberty of searching his room," he passed me a stack of paper. Correspondence from the Grand Cleric, with references to our travel plans, details on my personal life, details on the other Wardens, and enough information to make it clear he had been working alone. I shuddered to see one letter suggesting he develop a relationship with someone in the kitchen as a means of slipping poison into our food.

"This seems pretty clear cut," I said, passing everything to Nathaniel who nodded in agreement as he scanned it over.

"I have an idea," Nathaniel said, mouth spreading into a chilling grin. It wasn't his usual smile. I hadn't seen him make that chilling face since he said "If you let me go you might not be able to catch me next time," from the other side of our dungeon bars just before I conscripted him. Seeing it again directed at a common enemy instead of at me was enough to inspire me to return the expression.

* * *

_A/N: Isn't writers block a beast? I don't think I've ever gone so far between updates! Hopefully won't happen again. As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing!_


	29. How is it that you're even remotely sane

Nathaniel paced in front of the bars of the dungeon. If he found it odd to be confronting someone from this side he didn't show it. "A spy," he spit at the man with contempt. "In our very home. We pay you fair wages, better than any guard in Ferelden receives, we feed you, clothe you, keep a roof over your head, and this is our thanks?" He slammed a hand into the bars hard enough that the guard outside cleared his throat. The prisoner scurried further away, pressing his back to the far wall. If he could have found a way to fall through the mortar I'm sure he would have. Anders and I sat in silence, watching from the small table normally used by the guard, our expressions neutral.

Nathaniel resumed his pacing, passing a dagger from hand to hand. "You do realize you owe your very existence to the Wardens? It has occurred to you that without us, without the _Hero of Ferelden _who defeated the Blight itself_,_ your bones would be little more than rotting garbage in some darkspawn corrupted wasteland at least twice over?" Nathaniel spun to face the man directly. "You make me _sick_. If it wasn't for the Commander I would skin you alive now just to rid the world of your filth. Be grateful she insists we interrogate you before your fair execution." He glanced back at me in what I suppose was annoyance at my softhearted nature. I tried to look appropriately shamed by my own weakness.

"So, how much does it cost to damn the security of Ferelden and the world?" he went on. "What kind of coin buys a man's allegiance with the darkspawn over humanity?" The man groaned in fear, but said nothing. "Or perhaps a better question is who, exactly, would be so interested in watching the whole of Ferelden fall to their filth."

The man didn't speak, defiance briefly overpowering fear as he turned his face away, refusing to meet any of our eyes. "Here is how this will work," Nathaniel said, looking through the bars at our spy when it became clear he had nothing to say. "The Commander will ask you a question. If you fail to answer, you deal with me." He paused, walking over to place a small box on the table, removing three small bottles. "I'm not an unreasonable man," Nathaniel said. "I'll start with your fingers. Each time you refuse a question I break one. Toes will come next. I'll then move on to a bare blade."

He picked up a bottle, glancing at it almost lovingly in the torchlight. "I do hope you hold out that long, the next part will be _far_ more interesting. This," he said, displaying the bottle, "is Adder's Kiss. There are spiders in the Deep Roads, almost as fearsome as the darkspawn. They can grow to be the size of a man and take your head clean off with a single bite. This is a distillation of their venom." He set the bottle down with an air of reluctance before picking another up. "I have the Commander to thank for this," he said. "It's a formula used exclusively by the Antivan Crows. Such a flare for the dramatic they have, the Antivans. You can see it in everything they touch. Look at how it glows, and the shade of blue is just like a clear summer sky. Beautiful. She got the formulation from a Crow of her former acquaintance and was kind enough to share it with me. Having seen it in action, well, I can see why they have such a fearsome reputation." He set that one down, picking up the final bottle. I resisted the urge to shiver, even knowing Nathaniel this was disturbing.

The final bottle was clay and opaque, with a warning glyph on the front. "Doesn't look like much, does it?" he said to no one in particular. "The last is such a beauty, and Adder's Kiss… well, that shade of green has always been a favorite of mine. It reminds me of my sister's eyes. This one, though…" he sighed. "You ought to feel privileged. This is so rare it almost seems a waste to use it on a such a pathetic excuse for a man. It's demonic in origin, very valuable and _very_ difficult to acquire. Demons, they long for the flesh, you see. They'll even possess the dead if given a chance. When they do the body is… changed after." I actually did shudder at that. Maybe it was just because I'm a mage, but I always found demonic possession to be particularly terrifying. "A thick black syrup remains behind once the abomination has been killed, filling and surrounding the heart. Needless to say, it is highly prized among anyone with an appreciation for fine poisons. Do you _know_ how rare possessed corpses are, after all? And killing that which is already dead and thus feels no pain is no small feat." Nathaniel set it back down with the others, sparing one final glance before returning his full attention to the spy. "It is a shame to keep it in such a plain bottle but, to be completely honest, I shudder just looking at it on the shelf sometimes. I wonder if some essence of the demon itself remains behind sometimes. Just distilling it gave me nightmares for a week, and I had to burn the gloves I wore afterwards."

"So," he said, folding his hands before him and smiling broadly at the prisoner, anticipation clear on his face. "We will continue until you've told us everything. And should you think a quick death will save you from revealing your coconspirators we have the Warden Anders here. If I'm forced to go… too far he will heal you just enough to keep your pathetic heart beating so the process can start over again. Understood?" With that Nathaniel cracked his knuckles and unlocked the cell door.

The spy paled, glancing from one of us to the next with terror. "I'll tell you whatever you want," he finally said. "I was approached in the tavern in Amaranthine by an elderly woman. Said I'd be doing the Maker's work, taking care of unnatural malificar like her," he spat. "I was told to send her anything I found here. She sent me to Denerim to kill a messenger for the King that I intercepted. I was paid ten sovereign for each lead I sent, and another five hundred that I was supposed to use to hire an assassin. I had to give that back, though. The Crow I spoke to said they wouldn't accept any contracts on the Wardens in general and especially not on the Commander of the Grey in specific." He sighed. "He also spit on me, threatened to kill me himself, and suggested I should leave Amaranthine, and perhaps Ferelden, forever if I valued my life. Should have listened to that damned elf."

Anders and I exchanged a quick glance. The man continued to pour out information. Confidential Warden information he'd read and passed on, messages he'd intercepted and copied before I'd ever received them, messages I'd simply never seen. I winced in disgust when he admitted he had poisoned our food once. He used darkspawn blood, figuring it would be ignored as a battle related infection, not realizing the stories of our immunity were actually true, not myth. All of this was interspersed with comments about how none of it would have happened if I hadn't had the audacity to continue existing while being a mage. The description of the woman was enough to identify her, the former Revered Mother and now Grand Cleric.

I looked over at Nathaniel, he nodded. "Fine," I said, when it was clear he had nothing more to say. "As Commander of the Grey and Arlessa of Amaranthine I find you guilty of conspiracy, murder, and treason against the nation of Ferelden. You are sentenced to death. The time and place will be determined by His Majesty King Alistair Theirin after your full confession to his men. May the Maker have mercy on your soul." I walked out of the dungeon, followed by Nathaniel and Anders. "Send him to Denerim," I told Garavel as we left. "Have him held in Fort Drakon, we will be arriving a few days later to explain all. Let them know he's been found guilty of murder and treason and will be executed after he repeats his confession to the King's men." Garavel nodded and gestured several guards over to him. The rest of us walked through the now-deserted courtyard into the Keep.

"I knew that would work," Nathaniel said, chuckling slightly.

"I'm glad it did," I agreed. "I didn't want to _actually_ torture anyone." I made a face at the idea. "I would have if we had to, but it's better not to. Under torture confessions are less trustworthy. People may make up what they think you want to hear just to make the pain stop."

"Maggie, even if we ignore the legends about the Wardens that we all know are fabrication, or the things people assume are, the _truth_ alone is enough to make anyone shake in fear at the thought of being on our bad side," Nathaniel pointed out.

"That, and you're a very, very scary man," Anders added. "I was a little afraid of you there for a moment."

"I was almost ready to confess," I admitted. "And I haven't even done anything!"

"You _do_ recall who raised me, yes?" Nathaniel said, shaking his head. "My father made me observe him interrogating people on more than one occasion. I just did a fine imitation of him."

We both stared at him. "How is it that you're even _remotely_ sane now?" Anders asked.

"I am?" Nathaniel asked. "That's a surprise. I had assumed the only way to be happy as a Warden was to be at least slightly mad."

"I suppose we should be grateful you're not a drooling lunatic intent on slaughtering us in our sleep, then," Anders said cheerfully.

"No, Anders, I can't say I have a desire to slaughter the whole of the Wardens in their sleep. Only you." He smirked, saying that, and darted away before Anders could hit him.

"It's lucky for me that I sleep beside your boss, then," Anders laughed. Even Nathaniel chuckled at that

We took seats in the main hall, not far from a group of recruits who were eyeing us cautiously. I caught a few words of their conversation, fears about the Joining, which ceased the moment we passed by. "I still have to talk to Ronan," I said softly. "Figure out if he wants to join, decide if he's corrupted, and if he is, get him to write out what he told us in the deep roads, just in case." I groaned, both from exhaustion and from dreading the discussion. Having to explain that we needed his written confession in case he died before we made it to Denerim would be an unpleasant task at best. I felt almost guilty even asking. It seemed a selfish thing to ask someone who could be facing their own death. But then, I had a building full of people who would be facing death soon enough, and at my hand no less. If I thought about it too long I'd crawl under my blankets and refuse to come out.

"I'll take care of it," Nathaniel offered. "You both look ready to drop. And he may appreciate talking to someone who isn't a mage."

I thanked him, turning to leave before something else occurred to me. "Your sister, doesn't she have blue eyes? Like you?" I asked Nathaniel.

"She does," he agreed. "My father's sister, my aunt, has green eyes." He shrugged. "Do you honestly think I made that all up off the top of my head? Be glad you didn't actually get _captured_ by my father."

"I already was, but even more now," I admitted, before wishing him goodnight once more.

I fell face-first onto the bed as soon as we made it to our room. "Tired?" Anders asked, sounding amused.

"Nah," I told him. "Nothing like a long day of killing, travel, and threatening people with torture to keep me refreshed." I turned my head so I could see him. "And tomorrow we get to do the Joining."

He collapsed next to me with a contented sigh. "I've been doing a fine job of forgetting about that." He rolled onto his side. "You know… if Ronan dies…"

"Written confession or not, we've got nothing," I finished.

Anders sighed. "Well, there _is_ the spy… But our pet templar's made it this far, I think he has a good shot." I nodded. "I have to admit, he's really helpful with the emissaries. Maybe we should make him teach that to others? You know, as long as it's just people we like who won't turn it on us, and have the good sense to stay away from Warden mages when using those templar tricks."

"If he can't I might have Alistair show a few people, Roland and Arthur maybe. Cormac is too much a berserker, and he's picked up the reaver skills Oghren learned from that crazy dragon cult. I suspect that wouldn't mesh well with being a templar." I giggled. "Sten would be so proud of me."

"Sten? The Qunairi?"

"Yeah. He said once recruiting Loghain was the most reasonable thing I'd ever done. Apparently their philosophy is very much opposed to wasting resources, and they consider nothing more valuable than a life. They take great pride in turning enemies into allies."

"They don't have names?"

"No, Sten was a title. I guess they get assigned some kind of number, or something, for breeding records, but not actual names."

"How… bizarre."

"Very," I agreed. "Interesting seeing things from a different point of view, though. You should have heard his comments on the Circle?"

"Knowing what his people do to mages there I'm not sure I'd want to," Anders said, wincing.

"Nothing that bad," I said. "He said the tower itself was 'humans overcompensating as usual,' and then asked me why mages had a fascination with statues of women holding bowls."

"Maker, I hated those stupid statues." Anders made a face. "Overcompensating?" he snorted. "Maybe the Tevinters had to, they built the damned tower." He snorted.

"I've never even met someone from Tevinter who I didn't immediately kill, so I wouldn't know. It would be in keeping with people who can't even power for their own spells without resorting to using the blood of someone else, though." I figured Anders would get a kick out of that.

"Exactly!" he agreed, laughing.

"Oghren made several comments about how long it must have taken to… erect the tower," I added, causing Anders to laugh even more. His hysterics proved infectious, and soon I was laughing just as hard.

"Ugh," I said, stretching, once we'd both stopped our exhausted laughter and I wiped the tears from my eyes. "Should we test the apostates or anything before the joining?"

"I'm sure Nathaniel did," Anders reminded me. "You don't need to take care of _everything_. He knows a weak spell from a powerful one. The Wardens had mages long before a mage was in charge."

"Fine," I agreed. "I'm going to hunt down a maid and have someone bring up some water for a bath. I still have darkspawn blood in my hair from this morning."

"Actually," Anders said, "let me try something."

"I'm afraid to ask," I said.

"Well, worst case is we need a new bathtub after, but even that is a long shot. Odds are nothing will happen at all." He pulled several sheets of paper from his bag, and retrieved a small box from the closet. "I traced the water rune from our room in Orzammar. Let's see if I got it right." I sat back, watching him carefully etch the symbol into a blank runestone stone, infusing it with lyrium. "Now, if this works," he said, adhering the rune to the bottom of our tub, "we should have them put everywhere."

"And if it doesn't?"

He shrugged. "Nothing happens. Or something horrible happens. That would be the less desirable outcome."

"Let me try first," I said. "If you accidentally created a rune to fill the tub with molten rock I won't be able to heal you."

"Your confidence in my runecrafting truly inspires me," he said dryly, but stepped out of the way. I gingerly waved a hand over the rune, watching it glow briefly before the tub filled with hot, clean water.

"I'll never doubt you again," I said once I finished cheering.

"I keep telling you I'm very good at everything. I don't know why you never listen. I'm going to go show Nathaniel and Sigrun while you clean up," he said, grabbing his rune supplies and left the room in a posture closer to a strut than a walk.

Anders returned as I was drying off. I could hear the office door slam, followed by hysterical laughter as he walked into the bedroom. "What happened?" I asked as he opened the bedroom door.

"Every Warden now has a specially enchanted tub," he said. "Sigrun didn't answer a knock on her door, neither did Nathaniel. I skipped them and went to everyone else. Found them later."

"And that's funny?"

"Well, Nathaniel sneaking out of Sigrun's room with his hair a mess and no shirt on was." My jaw fell. "He just said 'this absolutely isn't what it looks like,' before grabbing something from his room and going back to hers. Oh, and asked me not to tell. You know he got a tattoo?"

"I can see you respected his wishes," I laughed.

"Well, it's _you_. I'm sure he _actually_ meant not to tell anyone but you. I mean, he's the one who said he thinks we sit in silence all the time since the two of us share a single mind."

"He isn't _serious_ when he says that," I reminded Anders.

"From what I know Nathaniel is always serious." He shook his head. "I mean, never once has the man laughed at one of my jokes. And he yelled at me for calling him Nate."

"Maybe he just doesn't think _you're _funny?" I suggested. Anders made a face at me.

"Nonsense. Everyone thinks my jokes are funny. I suspect that's half the reason you conscripted me in the first place. I got you to laugh." I had to admit, that did factor into my decision. I tried to joke with Mhairi and she only looked at me aghast, before saying something about how it 'wasn't the right time for humor.' I didn't even have to try and get Anders to crack a smile. When I found some silvers in the pocket of a darkspawn he started wondering aloud about why they carried money, and what kind of shop they would patronize. "Ha!" he said triumphantly. "I knew it. I could see you covering your mouth to hide a grin when I talked about those templars right after we met and I thought… 'ah, here's a woman who appreciates a fine sense of humor.' Had I known it would lead to getting roped into your little cult of darkspawn killing I might have kept some of the better jokes to myself."

"You know you love it," I said.

He grinned at me. "There are good points to it. It is nice to have a purpose beyond getting old in the tower or haggling over the price of a wand in a monotone as a tranquil. I could do without the death threats, but the fringe benefits outweigh most of the negatives."

"So what's Nathaniel's tattoo?" I asked, curious. I didn't even know he was considering getting one, although he didn't have much reason to tell me. Alistair and I had convinced Zevran to give each of us tattoos years earlier, matching Warden griffons. After I'd seen so many of the people I grew up with dead at the Circle, and he had seen the bodies of several of the men he trained with among them, we got very drunk and decided honoring the group that saved us from similar fates would be appropriate. Mine was fairly high on my leg, though. Anything but Chasind robes covered it completely and, as far as I knew, Anders was the only one who knew about it that hadn't been there the night I had it done.

"Oh no," Anders said. "That I'm afraid to tell, since if I do I know you'll say something. You might even jump up and run over there now in nothing but a towel once I tell you. And then he'll yell at me." He paused. "Well, not yell. But he'll do that quiet angry thing he does, which is even worse. It's like being in the First Enchanter's office all over again."

"Now I have to know," I insisted. "Come on, spill it."

"No," he said, shaking his head.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his as I looked up into his eyes. "Please tell?"

"You won't get me that easily," Anders said, shaking his head. "Not telling." I stepped back and dropped the towel to the floor before clinging to him once again. "Maker…" he muttered. "No. Not telling."

I shifted my weight slightly, throwing him off balance so he fell back onto the bed. Before Anders could sit up I was straddling him, pinning him to the mattress. "Maybe you _are_ a desire demon," he gasped. "Still not telling, though I'm not about to object to this." He ran a hand up my side. I quickly grabbed both of his wrists.

"Tell me," I said, giggling.

"How weak do you think I am?" Anders protested. I ground my hips into him. He gasped, biting his lip. "Fine, I'm weak. I'm very, very weak. It's a griffon, happy?"

I released his wrists and laughed. "Really?"

"Yes," Anders said. "And if you breathe one single word I'll tell him exactly _how_ you made me reveal it. In very great detail. I might even draw a picture."

"I won't tell," I promised.

Anders grabbed my hips and rolled over, pinning me below him. "That was completely unfair of you," he said.

"Maybe," I admitted.

"Maybe?"

"Well… yeah. Unfair. Very." I hooked my legs around his hips. "I'm sorry?"

"You're lucky I'm so easily manipulated," Anders said with a grin. "Now let go so I can get out of these damned robes."

The next morning we found the main hall full of recruits, standing in neat rows. I gasped seeing the work completed in the light. The old paintings lined the walls, and carved griffons arched across the ceiling. Bookshelves, albeit mostly empty ones, and weapon racks were placed everywhere, along with the comfortable looking furniture and tables I'd noticed the night before. It finally looked like the main hall of a fortress, someplace for everyone to gather and relax, not like a stuffy noble's throne room. Nathaniel was speaking to Varel in the corner, an air of secrecy about them. I went over to join the discussion while Anders prepared the poultices and salves he would need to bring to the Deep Roads. "How will we manage this?" Nathaniel asked me. I noticed he had left one arm bare, even rolling up his underarmor shirt, revealing the tattoo. "We can't do everyone at once, it'll be chaos."

I had to agree. We couldn't have someone running out the door from the back of the room if things went badly for the first few recruits. "Take them as they come back?" I suggested. "Groups of five or so." I looked at Varel. "What about quarters? Are we ready?"

"The maids have been working all week, we've got enough rooms for all of them, should we be so lucky."

"And if we're not?" I asked.

"That's prepared as well," he said. "A pyre behind the Keep, and a slab loosened in the deep roads." I nodded.

"I have no idea how Avvar treat their fallen," I admitted.

"I brought it up in conversation with him," Nathaniel said. "I just mentioned the Avvar crypt beneath the Keep. He said his people haven't used crypts for centuries, they practice cremation now. I gathered it's just to dispose of the physical remains, they don't attach much ceremony to it."

"If I can make a suggestion," Varel said. I looked up at him. "The old dining room has a door to the back hall of the Keep. We could do the Joinings in there, and send everyone upstairs through that hall. No one in the main room would see the survivors or bodies until after."

"_Old_ dining room?"

"The larger space was completed a week ago," he said. "Well, it's pretty rough still, but we're already using it. Everyone wouldn't fit in the old one. No one knew what to do with it, we wanted to wait for your decision."

"Let's make it a proper office for Nathaniel and I to share," I suggested. "That way a guard will see if anyone pops in or out who shouldn't be there, and we have a safe place to lock up important papers."

"Thank the Maker," Nathaniel muttered. "I'm getting very sick of balancing paperwork on my knees while sitting on my bed."

"You should have said something sooner," I told him. He shrugged indifferently.

"Not as big a problem as it sounded like," he admitted. "It isn't as though I have that many reports to write. I just used your desk while you were away."

I nodded. "You're aware that you only have one sleeve on your armor, right?" I asked him, grinning.

"I am," he said. "Damned thing _itches_. I can't stand to have anything touch my arm now."

"They'll do that," I agreed. "Looks good, though. When did you get that done?"

"Sigrun did it last night, one of the recruits taught her how to tattoo a few weeks ago and gave her one very similar, but on her leg. I have no idea what possessed me. She asked and before I knew it my shirt was off and the outline was finished. Anders caught me in the hall grabbing a clean shirt just after she finished, Maker only knows what he thought was going on."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "He told you, didn't he?" Nathaniel said.

"Told me what?" I asked.

"Right," Nathaniel said, rolling his eyes. "I should have guessed."

"He didn't say anything, I swear," I told him.

"You're lucky you have Varel to take care of the nobles," Nathaniel said drily. "You're a horrible liar."

Sigrun bounded over to us at that point. "Well? Looks pretty good, doesn't it?" she said. "I can't _believe_ he agreed to it. I figured I'd have to bug him, but all I did was ask once and Nathanial said sure!"

"It looks great," I told her. She spun around and pointed at the back of her calf, revealing her own.

"The Avvar recruit taught me how. You should let me give you one, too. We'll all get them, it'll be fun."

I turned away from the group and raised the hem of my robes. "Too late, I got mine during the blight."

"Have you three formed a club?" Anders asked, walking over to us.

"You should let me give you one," Sigrun told him. "I did Nathaniel's arm last night." He had apparently not mentioned bumping into Anders to her.

"Yeah… no," Anders said. "Driving needles into my skin? I try to avoid pain." He chuckled, adding, "well,_ most_ of the time. This does explain your unusual armor choice today," Anders said to Nathaniel. "Let me see." Nathaniel turned to him, shifting over so his arm was in the light. Anders raised his hand and a blue glow briefly emerged from his fingers. "There you go. Now you can finish getting dressed."

"Fantastic," Nathaniel said gratefully. "I'll be right back." He ran off, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

"That's cheating," Sigrun said.

"I did the same thing," I admitted. "Well, Wynne healed me. Getting tattooed when you live in a dirty tent and fight on a daily basis isn't the best idea. My whole leg turned red and I got a very long lecture about infection before she'd help."

"I'm constantly amazed that you're still alive and with all four limbs," Anders said, shaking his head. I made a face at him. Nathaniel returned quickly, the other sleeve to his armor buckled into place.

"Right, let's get this over with," I told them, glancing out at the crowded room.

* * *

_A/N: The water runes aren't my invention. They come up when Maric & Co. are in the deep roads in one of the books. Katriel described them as very common, so I figure any visitor to Orzammar would see them at work._

_Just replayed Origins since I wanted to check out some new mods. Matthias, the son of Willhelm from the Shale mission? Looks disturbingly like Anders, and has the same voice actor. Anyone else notice this?  
_


	30. Darkspawn aren't terribly generous

I called all the Wardens into the dining room, where we explained our plan. "So, everyone will recite for the groups they go out with. You all remember the words, right?" I asked. They nodded in agreement. "I don't know quite how to break the bad news to everyone after," I admitted. "I think we have enough people now we can tell everyone as time goes on, instead of right away. That's how it used to be done. I just didn't trust only having a few people know, in case something horrible happened to the order again."

No one seemed to have any objection so we went back out into the main hall, grabbing a large box of vials on the way. I noticed Ronan standing among the recruits and gestured him over. "You're sure about this?" I asked. "It looks like you got lucky, if you were going to get sick from the blood it would have happened by now. Don't feel indebted to us because of what happened in the Deep Roads, you don't owe the Wardens anything. Telling the King what happened is more than enough for me to say we're even. I mean, you didn't even get far enough to _try_ and kill anyone. I've forgiven people for way more."

"No, I'm sure," he said. "I thought being a templar could be a worthy goal, that I could spend my life doing the Maker's work. Forcing mages into a situation where they might end up dead, assassination, that's not what the Maker wants, not from me or from anybody. If anyone in Ferelden is doing something to turn His gaze back to us it's all of you. Wiping out the darkspawn, correcting the mistake that made Him abandon us the first time, that's what I _want_ to do."

"And working with apostates and blood mages?"

"While I can't claim to be comfortable with either, particularly the latter… I… I don't know." He shrugged, obviously conflicted. "They say magic is a curse, but it comes from the Maker, same as everything else. He must have had a reason. If you use that… ability to fight against the evil that befouled his Golden City, well, I can't find any reason to argue. Even if it does kind of chill me to the bone when Anders screams 'I'll show you why mages are feared' in battle." He grinned at that. "Does he always do that? Is it just to make me nervous?"

"No," I admitted, "that's one of his favorites, it's not for your benefit." He shook his head at that. "I have to admit, that is one of the most noble reasons anyone's ever given. Usually it's 'this is better than prison,' or 'sounded more interesting than being a guard.'"

"I need to stop talking to you," Ronan said. "Every time I come up with a nice comforting illusion you manage to smash it to little bits."

"Sorry, that's one of the less pleasant parts of my job," I said. Turning to leave I couldn't resist adding "it still beats Aeonar, though." I giggled hearing his surprised cough as I walked to the front of the group. A quick nod at Oghren sent him jumping onto a table, shouting loudly for quiet. After quickly introducing myself I gave everyone one final chance to back out, warning them that it wasn't a job, but a lifelong calling, with the usual caveats about how we weren't knights or heroes.

"We have an entrance to the Deep Roads below the Keep. Today you will be going there in small groups, each accompanied by a junior member of the order. Once everyone has collected a single vial of darkspawn blood you will return where we will immediately proceed with the Joining ceremony, again in small groups since there are so many of you." I looked out at the group. "Any questions?"

"How are we supposed to get darkspawn blood?" one of them asked. A few people snickered.

"I've tried asking nicely," Anders interjected. "But it seems that darkspawn aren't terribly generous. Personally, I find hitting them with lightning works, but if you're not lucky enough to have that ability you can just stab it with something sharp and pointy until it falls down. That's effective, too." Some objections were raised to that.

"Fools," a bald man with intricate tattoos snapped, speaking in an unfamiliar clipped accent. "Why would you wish to join the Grey Wardens and then quiver like old women at the thought of facing darkspawn? What is it you think they _do_?" With that said, he crossed his arms and made a 'hmph' sound, nodding in my direction.

"That pretty much says it all," I agreed. "The blight may be over, but the darkspawn remain, and as long as they do our work continues. Although I will add, in defense of old women, I've seen one face down darkspawn, demons and abominations without so much as a blink." The grumblers quieted down. "So, any other questions?" I was met with silence, as I'd expected. "Fine then, remember, no heroics from anyone today. Get in, get out. We haven't wiped them out in a millennia, I don't expect you to manage it _today_, after all."

I let the others divide everyone up, watching from a distance. Anders was right, I couldn't do _everything_, and if I tried no one would be able to manage without me if anything happened.

Caitlin approached me as I stood at the end of the hall. "I'd like to lead a group down," she said. "I can handle it."

"Do you think you'll be able to sense the darkspawn well enough?" I asked her. "That's my only worry. I _know_ you're skilled enough, I just don't want you to get ambushed."

"I've been walking on eggshells since we got back since I'm getting false warnings from you and the other senior Wardens. I nearly pulled a knife on Sigrun when she came to wake me this morning. I'm sure she thinks I'm a madwoman for it." Caitlin blushed at that. "Darkspawn shouldn't be a problem."

"Huh," I said, surprised. "Took me almost five years before I could pick up other Wardens. You get tons of nightmares, too?" She nodded at that and I squeezed her shoulder in sympathy. "I know the feeling. Well, fair enough. Go for it, just be careful." She grinned and took off, grabbing a handful of empty vials on her way.

Anders came over just before everyone left. "Off to work," he said, resting an arm around my shoulders. What _will_ you do while we're gone? Read a book? Put your feet up and order someone to bring chocolates? Take a bubble bath?" He paused. "Actually, if that last one is true, don't tell me. I'll get distracted and accidently fall onto some genlock's sword."

"Nah, I'll make some drinks. Something fitting, say archdemon blood?"

"Not my personal favorite, but hey, if it makes you happy."

"No…" I said, "it really doesn't."

"I know," Anders sighed, kissing me on the forehead. "But, as you've said, we do what we must."

It was less than an hour before they started to trickle back. I didn't know any of the recruits in the first few groups and felt guilty that I didn't grieve for the fallen more as a result. I had begun to think of the people we found as _my _recruits. I hoped they would all survive, of course, but the ones I had traveled and fought with seemed to command more of my worries.

Aidan stood looking down at his first group, eyes red. Of the five three had made it, the tattooed man who turned out to be our lone Avvar recruit among them. "I feel awful," he admitted once the new Wardens had been helped upstairs to rest.

"I'm sorry," I said. "If there were any other way we would. You know we don't have a choice, though."

"I know," he agreed. "Doesn't make it easier, though."

"No, it doesn't."

He straightened his shoulders. "Well, back to the Deep Roads with my second group. Darkspawn won't kill themselves and so on."

"There's no rush," I told him. "You can take some time if you'd like, it isn't even midafternoon yet."

"No, I'd rather… get it over with," Aidan said, adding "poor bastards," as he took a final look at the two who didn't survive.

Caitlin's group returned before long. She beamed proudly and it hit me that her joining had been solitary. "Wait and see before you celebrate," I whispered. She gasped and nodded, understanding my point quickly. Dermott from the circle, Tekla, the noble woman from Orzammar, and Ronan had all ended up in her party, along with two other recruits I didn't recognize.

She recited the traditional words of the ceremony and I passed the goblet to the first of the group, one of the apostates who arrived while I was gone. My theory on mages surviving the joining was suddenly looking a lot less reliable. "I'm sorry," I said, kneeling to close the man's eyes. Tekla didn't fare any better. Dermott was next. His hands shook as he took the heavy chalice from me. "He lives," I said, after the mage had fallen to his back.

"You _knew_," the next man, a warrior named Edmund, gasped. "You all _knew_ some of us would… Maker's breath, what kind of monsters are you?"

"I'm sorry," I told him. "We have no choice. Only a Warden can end the blight, and if our sacrifice was known there would be no Wardens. That's why we give you so many chances to change your minds." He stepped back from me but I matched his movement, maintaining the distance between us. "It's too late to turn back now," I warned him.

"Screw that," he said, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You're a bunch of lunatics, I want no part in this!"

"Please don't," I asked him. "You can't turn back now, and you won't win a battle with me, Edmund. Don't make me do this."

He snorted and began to draw his sword. I grabbed my dagger quickly but before I could finish drawing it a fist shot out, knocking Edmund backwards. "Coward," Ronan snorted. "Did you think this would be _easy_? Take the cup. If you're going to die at least do it with _some_ honor."

Unfortunately Edmund didn't listen to this advice. Jumping to his feet he swung out wildly with his sword, spitting curses at me. I dodged the blade easily before slipping my dagger between his ribs. He fell to the ground with a thud and I groaned, putting my face in my hands.

"He left you no choice," Caitlin said quickly. "Any of us would have done the same."

"Unfortunate it came to this," Ronan agreed. "But perhaps for the best in the long term." He sighed. "I'm sorry for striking him. My temper got the better of me. I cannot stand cowards playing at being warriors."

"No apology necessary," I assured him. "I just wish it hadn't ended like that." I picked the chalice back up.

"Moment of truth, then?" Ronan said, smiling slightly. "Well, let's see." I managed to retrieve the chalice before he collapsed to the ground.

"Good," Caitlin said, looking down at him. "All things considered, he's not a bad sort. Other than the trying to kill us thing." She smiled. "I suspect that happens a lot, though."

"More often than I'd like," I admitted.

"Are you all right?" she asked me. "You really didn't have a choice there, he would have killed you."

"I know," I agreed. "Something very similar happened at my own joining. The man just before me pulled his sword on Duncan. I knew it would happen eventually. Just… hate that I had to do it." I sighed. "How about you?"

"I feel bad for Tekla, she seemed nice. I didn't really know the other man, so…" she shrugged. I nodded in agreement. It was a relief to know I wasn't the only one more bothered by the deaths of the people we knew. I was beginning to wonder if I'd seen, and caused, so much death that it had perminantly deadened me inside. "Dermott and Ronan will make good Wardens, though. We were all glad you asked him."

"Let's get these bodies out of here before they wake," I said. We quickly covered them in sheets, opening the door so Varel's hand-picked guards could carry them away. "Two Wardens," I told him. He nodded, grimacing at the blood covering my hands and robe.

Caitlin and I kneeled to wait. Ronan woke first. "I can see why you scream at night," he muttered, holding his head. "Is it always like that?"

"No," I assured him. "Most people learn to block them out eventually." I helped him to his feet, kneeling back down as Dermott began to groan.

He blinked several times, looking up at us. "I'm alive?" he asked after a moment.

"You're alive," I confirmed. "Welcome." We helped him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed.

"After the first two… wow, I didn't expect to make it."

I nodded. "It's a terrifying thing to watch, I know. This is the price we all pay, though." I gave them each their pendants. "To remember those who didn't make it this far," I explained. "There's a maid waiting in the hall, she'll show you to your new rooms. Feel free to rest, get your stuff from the barracks, hit up the kitchen, whatever you like. The rest of the day is yours."

"What did you do after yours?" Ronan asked.

"Mine was very late in the day," I told him. "I went to a strategy meeting with my commander and the various leaders of the factions present at Ostagar, had dinner, and… went to bed. The battle was the next day."

"They had you planning strategy?" Dermott asked.

"A month out of my Harrowing? Hardly. I just stood there, thanked the king when he congratulated me, and tried not to look too in awe of all important people there. Duncan had been introducing me around camp as his apprentice, I suppose he wanted me to see how those things worked."

"So you knew you would end up here? Right from the beginning?"

I snorted. "Not at all. I suspected I'd be dead within half an hour of the battle's start. I spent two years assuming I wouldn't live to see the next day. Duncan knew he was getting near his end, though. I didn't realize it at the time, but looking back I now wonder if he wasn't searching for his successor, someone young enough to take over, but who understood the decisions we have to make. All the Wardens knew the battle would be a bloodbath, but no one would listen. Duncan included me in that meeting when no other Warden was present and he assigned me a job that was presumed to be safer than the battlefield, along with the only known heir to the Therin line other than the king. I had been told mages were desperately needed for the battle, but Duncan kept me out of it." I shrugged. "I've wondered about it quite a bit, but the train of thought leads to some very dark places. You don't want my job, believe me." I glanced down at the pool of blood by my feet. "You've both had enough death surrounding you today, though. Go off and relax, enjoy your day. You've accomplished something extraordinary. Be proud."

"What do you mean by the decisions we must make," Caitlin asked once we were alone.

"That, for one," I said, gesturing to the pool of blood. "An example given to me was this, though. You find a village, under siege by darkspawn. All survivors have been exposed to the corruption. What do you do?"

She shrugged. "I have an idea, but I'd rather hear your answer first," she said.

"You kill them," I said flatly. "Kill them all, burn the village to the ground. If they run you chase them down, or use mages and archers. Scorch the earth, destroy every trace of the darkspawn. Stop the plague where it stands, make sure it can't spread. That's why we burn the bodies after encountering them on the surface. That's something Duncan had to do once. It's ugly, but the only rational option."

She nodded. "I suspected as much. I read a biography of Garahal once, it said he was heavily criticized by the elven community for burning an alienage to the ground after a darkspawn attack."

"I have that one. Brother Genitivi's, right?" She nodded. "He's working on a new one, apparently. The last time I saw him he mentioned he wanted to write about the fifth blight and the destruction of the Wardens once his book about Andraste's ashes was done. Something cautionary so people who read it don't forget our importance."

"Will you get it?" she asked me.

"I'm sure he'll send me a copy. Don't know if I'll read it, though. Reading about my own life is kind of strange." I shook my head. "The last biography I read claimed I had slept with Alistair, Loghain, the king of Orzammar, half the templars in Circle tower, and Maker knows who else. Bizarre."

"Not true, I take it?"

"Not in the least. And the author managed to miss every person I actually _did_ sleep with. A failure on all sides, really. I'd expect Genitivi to be fairly close to the truth, and he certainly wouldn't include any steamy bits, even the true ones, but it's still strange." I shrugged. "I don't like thinking of myself as being different from everyone else. That whole hero thing is a noose."

We talked for a little longer, until a knock at the door told us the next group had returned. Caitlin left to bring her second group out and Arthur entered. Helka and Runi from Orzammar were with him, as well as Brighid and two men I didn't recognize. Both warriors, though, going by their heavy chainmail.

"Has Dermott gotten back yet?" Brighid asked. Runi and Helka exchanged a glance, I suspected they knew the risk already.

"He was in the last group. I think he's upstairs sleeping, but he may be in the mess hall," I told her honestly.

"Oooh!" she pouted, stomping a foot. "He bet me five silvers he would beat me back."

"Sorry," Arthur said. "You know his group left first, though."

She only pouted more, not replying. Arthur looked like he was stifling a laugh, so I sharply cleared my throat, reminding him why we were here. The goblet went to the two warriors first, they survived and I felt a bit of relief after the brutal incident with Caitlin's group. Brighid was next, and not as fortunate, nor was Helka who followed. Runi took the goblet last, tears threatening to overwhelm her as she looked up from Helka's crumpled form. She survived.

Two more groups arrived quickly, Othmar in one, Brinjar in the other, both surviving. There were only two groups remaining, due back at any moment. I was sitting with Aidan after his last group had left when one of the recruits came running in, the door opening hard enough to rattle in the frame.

"Commander!" he all but gasped, out of breath. "Nathaniel sent me to get you, we've been overwhelmed by the barrier." I grabbed my staff, Aidan did the same.

"Go upstairs, find all the Wardens who are back. Just start yelling when you hit the east hall on the second floor, they should hear you. Tell them we're needed in the deep roads."

"We've beaten them back so far, but people are hurt," he added. "I was also told that you should know our healer is down." He looked flushed. "A few people are down, but Nathaniel wanted you to know about him specifically. Ander? Anders? I'm sorry, I can't recall his name. Hurt, but not dead. Nathaniel was very clear that you should know that. _Not dead_."

I stared at him blankly for a moment, too horrified to even issue an order, before my brain kicked back in. "Upstairs!" I barked, "get them, and find Dermott. He's a healer. _Run!"_

The recruit took off and I barreled through the main hall, Aidan fast on my heels. I could hear fighting and shouting once we hit the lower basements. I slid down the ladder to the deep roads, following the noise and not noticing if Aidan kept up. Nathaniel was the first to spot me. "He's over there," he barked, gesturing with his head while letting arrows fly. Darkspawn were piled everywhere and the Wardens and recruits were still outmatched nearly ten to one.

I turned my head and gasped, dropping to my knees. "Andraste's mercy…" Anders, skin ghostly white, was crumpled to the ground, a genlock's sword stuck straight through him from one side to the other, the body of the darkspawn still nearby, burnt to a crisp by magical fire. His arm had actually been pierced and pinned to his side by the blade, perhaps in his attempt to deflect it. Somehow he was still breathing, but blood bubbled against his lips with every gasp.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Aidan said, kneeling next to me and pulling off his gloves. "If it was through his heart he'd already be dead." I shuddered. "Sorry," Aidan added, looking up at me. "I… I think I can do this. Just keep the darkspawn off me."

I bent over Anders briefly, pressing my lips to his for a moment before forcing myself to turn away. Once I was standing I began letting distance spells fly at the darkspawn. The numbers did seem to be thinning, but far too slowly.

"Maggie, Emissary and Ogre both in the rear," Nathaniel called. I nodded and glanced back at Aidan. "I'll keep them safe," Nathaniel said.

"On it," I said, already moving to the front of the group.

"Boss," Oghren said, pausing after decapitating a genlock. "Kind of you to join us."

"Well, I'm here now," I said. "Keep me clear and get everyone back. I want to finish this quick before anyone else gets hurt." He nodded and gestured everyone away, standing guard with his axe as I raised my staff in the air. First, a blizzard, followed immediately by a lightning storm, the combination of both spells leaving me drained. I drank a lyrium potion and created the largest force field I could, blocking the darkspawn behind it, trapped in the in the storm I created. Finally, I slashed my wrist open, raising my hand once more. I ignored my blood dripping down my arm and muttered softly, twisting my fingers in a smooth gesture, allowing the cloud of crimson mist to build around me. _Concentrate_, I told myself, holding the spell steady.

"Blessed Andraste," I heard someone behind me shout. I wavered briefly, almost losing the spell.

_Ignore them_, I thought. _Focus._ I put the hilt of my dagger between my teeth with my opposite hand, running that wrist along the blade as well. Letting the dagger drop to the floor of the Deep Roads I began chanting again. _Almost…. Almost._ I could feel my feet leave the ground, the spell itself pulling me up into it. _There._ Finally, just as the force field began to waver and die, I let go, unleashing a storm of blood against the darkspawn that remained. It sent them flying back in one direction and me in the other, Sigrun catching me before I hit the ground. The darkspawn weren't as lucky, their collective fall to the ground was hard enough to send a shudder through the rock. Many died instantly, skulls smashing open on the stone ground. Those who made it though that began to howl, an unholy deafening roar as their blood boiled, shooting out their eyes and ears.

Dropping to my knees I gasped for air before falling forward. I could hear Oghren shout for a healer. "No," I gasped. "I'm fine."

"Ancestor's tits you are," he snorted.

I pulled myself up to a kneel again, managing to grab my dagger off the ground. "I'm fine. Anders needs the healers more than me."

He shook his head, looking down at me. "Sodding idiot," Oghren muttered, scooping me up easily despite our height difference. My heels dragging on the ground, he carried me back to where Aidan kneeled next to Anders and laid me down next to him. "Her next," he told Andan. My eyes drifted closed. I could hear talking around me, someone was counting, someone else was rattling off orders, Aidan calling Dermott over, and above it a steady march of footsteps retreating. It sounded far away, like I was listening through a thick door.

"What in the Black City did you _do_?"

I forced my eyes open. "Anders?"

"Were you expecting anyone else?" He was sitting next to me, still pale, but very much alive. "Let me take a look at you." Aidan was leaning against a wall behind him, looking exhausted but pleased. He flashed me a thumbs up.

I smiled up at Anders. "You're…" I couldn't bring myself to complete the thought, much less the sentence, blinking back tears.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm exhausted, I hurt everywhere, and my best robes are utterly destroyed, but I'm fine." He shook his head, looking down at me. "You, on the other hand, are a real mess. You've lost more blood than I did, and I got run straight through. What were you thinking?"

"Had to kill them," I said flatly. "Is someone… counting?" I asked, hearing the numbers repeating.

"The recruits are tallying up how many darkspawn you killed," he said, holding up one of my wrists. "You've bled yourself dry, Maggie," Anders said, sounding nervous. "I can heal the cuts but…" he shook his head. "This is _way _worse than what the Architect did to you. I need some water over here," he barked out. "And a lyrium potion or two. Strong ones."

Dermott ran over from where he'd been helping several recruits, passing Anders two potions and a water skin. "Was that…" he asked, sounding awestruck.

"Yes, it was," Anders said. "And it'll be days before she can even walk ten feet on her own because of it, so don't get any ideas." He downed one of the potions himself and poured the other directly into my mouth.

"You can't just heal her?" Oghren asked.

"If we could magically create blood where there is none she wouldn't have had to drain herself in the first place for that spell," Anders said. Dermott and Aidan muttered an agreement to that statement. "I can heal the injuries, which will help, but she'll just have to wait for her body to replace what was lost." My wrists had already begun bleeding again, Anders examined each of them. "Anyone but a Warden would be unconscious or worse, thankfully we heal fast." He cast a spell, healing my self-inflicted wounds.

"I'll be fine," I told him, hoping I sounded confident. Anders was exaggerating how long I'd take to recover, but I had overdone things this time.

Anders snorted. "Fine then, drink the water." I took the skin, dropping it immediately. "Indeed," he said, holding it to my mouth. I gratefully drank it, feeling slightly better almost immediately between that and the magic. Trying to pull myself into a sitting position I felt a hand on my shoulder, keeping me down. "Don't you dare," Anders said. "You're no good to anyone unconscious, and once you sit up you'll get dizzy. Give it a bit longer."

"Just so you know," Nathaniel said, walking over, "you killed eighty-four at once. They're all quite impressed."

"Beat my own record," I muttered, giggling.

"Show off," Oghren snorted.

"Yes, yes," Anders said. "Very impressive. Can we _leave_ please? I'm not exactly at my best, and this isn't the ideal working conditions even if I was." Most of the recruits had gone back inside. "Roland," Anders called. "Carry her in," he said when the warrior jogged over. "Don't drop her." He climbed to his feet, stumbling once he was upright.

"Got you," Nathaniel said, clamping an arm around Anders' waist quickly. "I'll help you in."

Roland grunted as he picked me up. "Huh," he said. "I figured you'd be lighter."

"Wow, _thanks_," I laughed, trying to keep my stomach from lurching as the corridor swam around me.

"Sorry, last woman I picked up was an elf," he said, before snapping his jaw shut when he realized how that sounded. My laughter was almost instantaneous. "I mean, er…"

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed," I said. Most of the recruits were already inside. The few who remained were laughing and cheering, celebrating our victory. "Were there any casualties?"

"No," he said, relieved. "Anders was the worst injury. Oghren got hurt too, but that was before Anders and he healed him. Everyone else is on their own feet." He glanced around. "But I suspect Sigrun is in worse shape than she's letting on."

"Did anyone check the emissary?" I asked suddenly.

"I did," Nathaniel replied from ahead. "And yes, it's one of them. You missed the talking, but I caught some of it."

"Tell me what happened while we walk."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Oh, and I wasn't necessarily saying Anders and Matthias are related, I just noticed it and went 'really, Bioware?' so I had to share. Lookalike characters are common, but having the same voice actor too seems a bit much. I guess it's a good thing they didn't make Cullen look like them, too._ ;)


	31. Let me know if I do something obnoxious

Anders began relaying what happened before I arrived as we marched through the deep roads, slowly making our way to the surface. "Everything was going fine," he said, leaning on Nathaniel. "Someone came back from the group out with Tobias, they had an injury. A second group hit them while they were still mopping up the last of the first. Nothing major, just a broken leg. I went out with him to heal the man so he could make it back on his own, Sigrun came with me in case they needed more fighters or we got cornered on the way there."

"Good," I said. They had done everything right from what I could tell so far.

"Once we got there the darkspawn went mad. They began pouring out of every crack in the walls. I've never seen anything like it." He sighed. "I made everyone run back here, there was no way seven of us could take them, I figured with the whole group at the barrier we would have a better chance."

"They were targeting Oghren, Sigrun and Anders in particular," Roland added. "That may be why so few others were hurt, the darkspawn just honed in on those three, even ignoring people who were actively fighting them. I ran several straight through without a fight, since they only wanted to move past me. They ignored Nathaniel, too. Two of them were talking- not to us, to each other."

"What did they say?"

"I didn't catch it exactly," he admitted. Everyone else echoed that. "One seemed mad the 'Warden witch' wasn't here, the other said something about the followers of the witch."

"Makes sense," I said.

"It does?" Oghren asked, helping a limping Sigrun back. "Figured if they wanted Wardens and went for the ones they could sense they'd be after Nathaniel, too." Anders gestured to them, stopping our procession to heal Sigrun before we went on. She flexed her leg and smiled, continuing on her own easily.

"No," I said. "The four of us killed the Architect and the Mother. If it's personal, which it seems to be, that's who they'd blame. Nathaniel wasn't with us, he was holding the keep." We had reached the ladder.

"Hm," Roland said, looking at it. "Sorry, boss," he then said as he shifted me so I was slung over one of his shoulders as though I was a sack of flour.

"I'm fine," I said. "Thank you."

"Hey Maggie," Anders called from below us. He was on his own feet now, looking distinctly uncomfortable but managing the ladder without a problem.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I can see up your robes!" he replied in a sing-song voice before laughing.

"Is that really such a novelty you have to mention it?" Nathaniel asked. Anders only laughed in response.

"It is for me," Oghren called. "Move your left arm."

"Are my underclothes _that_ fascinating?" I asked.

"Nah," Oghren said. "But for a human you've got a backside a noble-hunter would be proud of. Gotta admit, I wouldn't object to getting a closer look."

"Remind me never to get drunk and moon anyone," I muttered.

"Can I just say, I _love_ being a Warden," Roland said, shifting me in his arms once we were past the ladder. "I've never dreamed I'd hear my commanding officer say something like that. And yet now, it makes complete sense and doesn't shock me in the least." He chuckled. "Don't tell his Majesty, but this really beats standing around the palace looking imposing."

"Let me down," I said once we were at the door to the courtyard. "I want to go in on my own feet. We don't need a building full of people who met me yesterday watching me carried in like an invalid." Roland complied, but Anders' grumbling kept him hovering near me nervously. "Back to work," I reminded them, working our way across the yard carefully. "Let's finish the Joining."

I sat through the ceremony, too exhausted after the short walk to stand. "Sorry for not standing," I said to the final group of recruits. "But, it's a good example of what we do. We fight them at the expense of ourselves. Our health, our well being, even our souls if that's what you believe about blood magic... Any means necessary. Not that I expect or want anyone to throw their life away needlessly, far from it. I go to great lengths to make sure we all return home at the end of the day. We were overwhelmed today with our best healer out of commission, so I made sure the fight ended as quickly as possible before anyone else could get hurt. Oh, and I don't require all mages to learn blood magic, just so you know since it is such a loaded subject. I'm the only one now who uses it, and I only use it on darkspawn. Clearly, it takes a good deal out of you." I shrugged. "If anyone has questions after I'll be happy to speak about it more, but for now, we've come to the reason you're here."

"The Wardens were founded in the first blight, in Thedas' darkest hour, and only they managed to save all humanity from extinction. Only we can sense the darkspawn, and only we can defeat them. A group of fighters: humans, elves, dwarves, and mages came together. There, in Weisshaupt fortress, the first Wardens drank of darkspawn blood, taking the power into themselves." I paused, waiting for the inevitable reactions.

"So that's why we collect the blood?" one of the apostates asked. I nodded.

"Isn't their blood always deadly?" a woman in light armor asked.

"Not always," I said. "All the Wardens before you have done the same. I won't lie, we _all_ pay a heavy price for this, sooner or later, and some _will_ pay today. There's no other option, though. Tobias will share with you the words we've spoken since the first joining."

He recited the words carefully before Nathaniel took up the goblet. There were nine present, so Sigrun stopped him, grabbing a second cup from our locked chest of joining supplies I'd had brought in, dumping half the blood into it. They each started at an end, working their way down. When it was over we had five new Wardens.

"Forty one," I said once they had recovered and been shown to their rooms. Tobias, claiming exhaustion, left quickly. I could see the results of the joining took a toll on him, though.

"We're running out of bedrooms," Nathaniel noted.

"Some will be reassigned to Denerim," I said. "The compound is rebuilt, I'd like to have a dozen or so staffing it. The new building is a lot larger, Alistair allocated us space for four times that many people, but we don't have the manpower to fill it yet. I also want to talk to some of the nobles about getting space for smaller garrisons in the south and Banneron. Five or ten Wardens, nothing large. Just people on-hand for local darkspawn problems."

"Who will you put in charge?" he asked, automatically jumping into his second in command role.

"For Denerim? I think Caitlin. She's new, but I trust her."

"You mean she's a fanatic like you," Anders said, smiling.

"That too," I agreed, not liking the word fanatic but understanding what Anders was driving at. "I'd want our public face to be the most enthusiastic person I can find, and I don't want anyone with too many illusions about what we are. It won't be for at least six months, though. I'd rather they get more experience under their belts first before stationing anyone away from us."

"Six months still isn't long," Nathaniel pointed out. He had to wave a hand in front of me to prompt a reply. I wasn't exactly lost in thought, I was just… lost. The goblet on the table had become completely fascinating for some reason, I couldn't tear my eyes away. I shook my head.

"Sorry," I said. "Really tired. None of these people were green kids when we got them," I argued. "They're all trained fighters, it's only being a Warden that's new. Six months so they can all sense the darkspawn and get their nightmares under control."

"True," he said, not sounding completely convinced.

"Wait and see then," I said, giving in slightly. "If summer comes and you don't think they can manage we'll keep them here and plan something else." I groaned. "Leaving for Denerim… day after tomorrow?"

Anders gave me a skeptical glance. "Not on horseback," he said.

"Fine, we'll take the coach," I agreed. "Can't wait, though. Garavel already sent the spy up, they left this morning."

"I'd like to go, too," Nathaniel said. "You aren't… great dealing with politicians who disagree with you." Since they usually ended up dead I suppose that was a very polite understatement.

"I was going to ask you," I admitted. "That'll give us four with Ronan."

"He lived, then?" Anders said. "I was wondering but asking seemed a bit… wrong."

"He did," I said. "I had to cut down the man before him, though. He pulled a blade on me when he realized it could be fatal. I tried to talk him down, and Ronan decked him for it, but he came up swinging."

"You knew it would happen someday," Anders reminded me.

"That's probably better than if he had survived the joining," Sigrun said. "Living with someone who reacts like that doesn't sound healthy."

"Aren't you already dead?" Nathaniel asked with a smile. She elbowed him playfully.

"Someone that angry could easily turn it literal for all of us," she replied.

"You're in charge while we're gone," I told her.

"I never get to be in charge," Oghren said.

"Fine," I said. "You're in charge as long as you're sober. Once you start drinking Sigrun takes over."

"So I'm in charge, then," she said, laughing.

At some point I passed out mid-conversation at the table. Anders shook me awake before helping me up the stairs, carrying me right to the bed. "That was easily the most reckless thing I've ever seen you do," he said, sitting next to me. "I understand how seriously you take the 'any means necessary' thing, but that was verging on suicidal."

"It ended the fight without any other injuries," I replied. "And I'm alive."

"Only _just_," Anders said. "Have you looked in a mirror? You're white as a sheet. Your lips are _blue_." He grimaced. "Any more and your heart would have just stopped. Not a thing any healer could do for you then."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"No you're not," he snapped. "Did you get that spell from a book? Is it Tevinter?" I nodded. "For something like that they don't use their own blood, and the people who get used up _die_."

"I won't use it again," I promised him. "I just… I wanted the fight to be over. I was so angry, and I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate for long. I could barely keep it together long enough to string four spells together." My voice cracked as I went on. "I thought you would… and I wouldn't even get to say goodbye."

Anders sighed, laying down and wrapping me in his arms. "So did I," he admitted quietly. "I knew when you got there, though. I could hear you storming down the deep roads, screaming your head off the whole way."

"I wasn't screaming," I said.

"Are you kidding me?" he said. "You were shouting curses at the darkspawn that would make _Oghren_ blush. And then you started up on what you'd do to them if anything happened to me. I wasn't in a state where I could reply, but I really was quite touched. Particularly when you said you would remove their skin an inch at a time, using nothing more than your fingernails. And feed it to them."

"I didn't say that," I protested.

"Just ask anyone," Anders insisted. "I would have known anyways, though. When you get worked up about something the magic just rolls off you in waves. It's like standing next to an open blaze, even if you're hiding it well enough no one would see anything on your face. I honestly can't believe you managed to keep your temper long enough to make it to your Harrowing without someone noticing." He chuckled at that, stroking my hair gently. "You might have everyone else fooled, but I'm a mage, I know when you're ready to snap. I'm just glad I've never been on the receiving end of your temper."

"Anyways," he went on, "Aidan had me conscious before long. He's really getting quite good. I saw you cut yourself, tried to shout for you, but you were pulled into the spell and didn't hear me. I'll be honest, that was the most terrifying spells I've ever seen. It lifted you clean off the ground and tossed you back like you were nothing."

"I didn't expect that to happen," I said. "The book didn't mention anything about it." I had found the spell in an ancient tevinter text, so crumbling I had been slowly recopying everything since the pages could barely withstand being turned.

"Did the book suggest using your _own_ blood?"

"No," I admitted. It had, in fact, issued several grim warnings against doing just that. I suppose they had been there for a reason.

"You know either of us could die, at any time," Anders reminded me. "If you go off on a suicidal rampage every time I get hurt…"

"I know."

He sighed. "Well, at least the few recruits I'd heard openly debating about how exaggerated your reputation must be won't question it again." I managed a laugh at that. "I fear _my_ reputation may be hopelessly scarred, though."

"I suspect the fact that you walked into the Keep after an injury like that is enough to save your dignity," I told him. When he didn't reply I shifted slightly, looking up to discover he had already fallen asleep. I joined him before long.

* * *

"Maggie," someone was whispering, shaking me awake.

I groaned, pulling blankets over my head. "'m sick. Need rest."

"You need _food_," the voice replied. Anders. I peeked out from under the blanket.

"You woke me up to make me _eat_?"

"Yes," he replied, setting a tray next to me. "It's been almost three days since you've had anything."

I sat up, feeling woozy. At some point I'd either put on, or he'd changed me into, a nightdress. Ser Pounce-a-lot was curled up next to me, purring happily. When I moved the cat sat up, rubbing his head against my arm. "No," I said, shaking my head. "That's impossible. I went to sleep early yesterday. We both did, I remember it."

"No," he said. "We went to sleep three days ago. I got up the next day and kept an eye on you while you rested. You woke up for water a few times but other than that nothing."

"I feel like something an ogre chewed up and spit out," I said, holding my head.

"That's because you need to _eat_," he repeated. Arguing with him when he was in full healer-mode was impossible. I could try, but he'd just fold his arms and stare at me until I gave up. Even though I felt sick just looking at the food, I began picking at everything on the tray. After a few bites I realized how hungry I was and quickly finished everything. "There," he said, gloating.

"I've been asleep that long?" I asked again, my mind finally clearing.

"Mostly. I made you get up for water, and, um… to help you take care of some necessities." I suppose that explained how I stayed in bed so long without wetting it. Really, just wonderful. Wasn't that exactly what every woman dreams of, having her lover help her to the bathroom? I felt myself flush. "Not a big deal," Anders insisted. "I mean, it's not like I'm seeing parts of you I haven't seen a hundred times. You were mostly delirious the entire time, anyways. Just babbling away, it didn't make much sense."

"I say anything good?" I asked, hoping it was at least funny.

"Not really," he answered. "It was kind of depressing. At one point you seemed to think I was Alistair, and started crying about Duncan. At another I think you thought I was Jowan, and you were saying something about getting out because you wanted your mother. A few times you thought you were in the fade and I was dead, or maybe that we were both dead. That was… not good."

"Maker's breath," I muttered. "I'm sorry. I don't know where any of that came from."

"It happens," he said. "A few people wanted to come visit you and Aidan offered to check on you but I kept everyone away. Figured you wouldn't want anyone seeing you like that." That was a relief. Being out for so long was bad enough with so many new people around, having word spread that I was a drooling imbecile wouldn't exactly instill confidence in my leadership abilities. I'm sure Anders knew I thought so, since he laughed. "So, feeling well enough to face the world today?" he asked finally.

"I think so," I said. "Damn! We were supposed to leave for Denerim yesterday!" I'd forgotten all about it. The spy would be there already, and Alistair wondering what was going on. Why did it seem like I always ended up bedridden whenever we had plans to travel somewhere. It was like the Maker himself hated things going smoothly for us.

"Everyone is ready to go whenever you are," Anders told me. "You were in no state to travel yesterday. We can leave today if you want. I even packed for you."

"You _always_ find a reason to pack for me," I pointed out.

"Because you just crumple your stuff into a ball and shove everything into a bag if I let you pack. Folding exists for a reason." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that. Anders had lectured me several times about the way I packed my bags, and then finally given up and taken to folding things for me when I wasn't looking. His things were, of course, always neatly folded, arranged by type and color, and Maker knows what else.

"So you keep telling me," I said. "I don't see a difference, though." Anders made a face at me. "I'm feeling much better. Let's leave today, can you let everyone know?"

"Already did," he said. "I figured you'd be anxious to go once you were up, and last night you started to make sense again so I knew the worst had passed."

"I'm still not feeling completely normal," I admitted. "Even if I did sleep for days I'm still really tired. But I'm fine if we take the coach. You may have to put up the tent, though."

"As long as you promise you'll never use that spell again," he said.

"Promise," I agreed.

"Well, at least the new mages aren't quite so excited about getting to play with blood magic after seeing it knock you out for half a week." I laughed, pulling on my armor. I noticed Anders was in armor as well.

"No robes today?" I asked him.

"No robes anymore," he said. "Not when I'm planning on leaving the Keep, at least." He fiddled with the buckles, exposing an angry looking scar on his side. "I've got another just like it on the opposite side," he sighed. "At least it's symmetrical."

I ran a finger across it. "It really isn't bad," I told him. "And it's where no one would ever see it. Well, no one but me, and you know I don't care."

"The scar doesn't bother me," Anders said. "Not much, at least. I really thought that would be it, though." He rebuckled the armor. "I'd like to avoid painful death if I can, at least for a few more decades. And if you cope with my getting injured by going completely insane I suppose I'd better make sure I don't let it happen again, even if it's just to keep you alive."

I paused to put on a small amount of makeup before leaving our room, just to hide how ashen my skin looked. The office had been dramatically changed since I went to sleep. "Has everything been moved downstairs?" I asked Anders.

"Most," he said. Your desk and all of that, and your papers are locked in chests in the new office. I had them bring the new furniture in. The antique weapons are downstairs, too. These paintings were in storage." I looked around. One was of Wardens running into battle, dating back to Commander Arland's day if not earlier. Another was a painting of the Keep itself, as it might have looked when the Avvar first built it. He had also managed to dig up several large wall sconces and a few tapestries, which gave the room a slight resemblance to a classier than usual brothel. Anders was enamored with anything gilded and ornate, though, so I couldn't complain much. He put up with my griffins and bloody battle scenes, after all. They actually didn't look half bad together. If it looked like a brothel I suppose it would be a brothel that catered exclusively to Grey Warden fans. Which would most likely be a highly disturbing business, but worked as a decor theme.

"Nice," I said.

"I thought so," Anders agreed.

Several people I didn't recognize greeted me once we reached the main hall, offering their well wishes and relief at my recovery. Varel cornered me before I could make it to the office. "Maggie, you haven't met with the vassals in more than a year."

"Can it wait?" I asked him.

"Not really," he admitted. "They took things upon themselves, most will be here tomorrow."

I groaned. "We have to leave for Denerim," I reminded him. "Should have left yesterday."

"There's been an increase in isolated darkspawn sightings, everyone's nervous and you've been away from the Keep for more than a month." That got my attention.

"Find Nathaniel, meet me in the office," I told him. "Bring a map." He ran off while I went to the door, finding it locked. Locked out of my own office, in the building where I was in charge. Fantastic. I suppose it wouldn't have taken long for everyone to realize I really didn't know what I was doing, might as well get it out of the way now. Although the wisdom of bothering with a locked door in a building full of people who can pick locks seemed dubious at best. "Can someone pick this for me?" I called to no one in particular. The Avvar warden walked over, removing a delicate looking set of lockpicks from his pocket.

"Certainly, Commander," he said, examining the lock.

"Please, just Maggie. We don't use titles here," I reminded him. "We're all equal. What's your name?"

"You will not be able to pronounce it," he warned, working on the lock carefully so it didn't break.

"Try me. I certainly can't spend the next several decades calling you 'hey you,'" I said.

"Máel Sechnaill Riab nDerg" he answered. Well, there was no way I'd be able to pronounce that, he was right. I gave it a few tries, earning myself a surprised chuckle. "Close," he admitted, standing up to open the door. "Mal would be acceptable. That is what my friends called me."

"I was bringing you your key," Nathaniel said, walking over to us.

"Mal got it for me," I said, gesturing to the open door. The Avvar man excused himself after I thanked him and returned to a small group who were sitting in a corner, making arrows.

"You got his name?" Nathaniel asked. "I asked, he just told me I'd never be able to pronounce it."

"Tried that on me, too. I told him to let me give it a shot. I couldn't pronounce it, but apparently the attempt earned me the right to use his nickname. I also pointed out we had to have _something_ to call him if we were going to work together."

"I was worried I'd cause some offense if I mispronounced it," Nathaniel said, shrugging. "I have no idea what they consider polite and rude."

"Neither do I. Just hoping he'll let me know if I do something exceedingly obnoxious."

"Why? No one else does," Nathaniel laughed.

* * *

_A/N: I try to actually go by the conventions set in-game to pick names for people, since it seems like Bioware did have some kind of standard. Most of the Fereldens have Celtic or Anglo-Saxon names (Even Maggie, who I named after Margaret Plantagenet), the dwarves have Scandinavian ones, etc. No clue what to use for an Avvar since the book only had one, and the name was vague enough to be either a nickname or from any number of places, so I went with old Irish, figuring they have common roots with Ferelden but might be a bit more old-fashioned in language due to isolation. It's a mashup of the first name of a ninth century Irish king and the last name of a character from the Ulster saga, but I promise you, those are real names and not just random letters. I don't know what's worse, how much thought I put into that, or that I felt the need to defend and explain it. ;)_

_Thanks so much for reading. It totally makes my day whenever I get an alert for a new review or someone adding me to their fav list or notifications!_


	32. Was his father a funny man?

I studied a map with the darkspawn sightings plotted carefully. Many of them were near known deep roads entrances, which wasn't surprising. "Have people check here and here," I said, gesturing to two areas of high concentration. "Maybe a cave-in has opened the deep roads to the surface."

"Most of them are around the silverite mine in the woods," Nathaniel said.

"One of the Disciples must have set up in the Architect's old lab."

"Should we go look?"

"I'm in no state to fight yet," I admitted. "I won't be for another couple days. I still feel like I haven't slept for ages. And I think if I went it would be far worse, they seem to be targeting me specifically." I shook my head. "Send out scouts, the same team can check all three areas, they're not far apart. Let them see what we're up against first before we decide on a plan of action. We've got a building full of Wardens, there's no reason for us to handle _everything_ still."

"Who should go?" Nathaniel asked.

"Have Rose lead the team, and let her pick who she brings," I said. "Give her access to the records of all the new people. I'll encourage her to bring Mal since you said he's a good scout, and at least one other rogue whose been with us long enough to sense darkspawn, but I want to leave it up to her."

"Testing her?" Nathaniel asked.

"Possibly," I admitted. "I think she can manage it." Varel offered to go get her. "We can't leave until tomorrow," I told Nathaniel. "The _vassals_ want to meet with me in the morning." I made a face.

"At least they didn't show up while you were sleeping," he reminded me. "I was worried, Anders wouldn't let anyone see you."

"I was delirious," I admitted. "He knew I wouldn't want anyone seeing me like that."

"I know now. He should have told me that from the beginning. I was starting to wonder if it was… worse than we realized and he was hiding you so no one would know."

"What, you thought he was hiding my body? Or that I'd gone abomination?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "Both thoughts did cross my mind. He barely left your side, I had to order him to get some air and meet with the new mages, and that had to be shouted through the door. He even blocked it so I couldn't see in when he stepped out." Nathaniel blushed. "I picked the lock when he was gone and had Aidan come with me to make sure you were actually alive and… you."

I raised an eyebrow. "You _really_ think he would hide my _corpse_? Come on, Nathaniel, he's not insane."

"I know," Nathaniel said. "But I know how he feels about you. He's refused to stop trying to heal people that were beyond help before, and they were strangers to him. And if you were possessed, well, he might have ended up too deeply enthralled to realize it. I… quickly realized you were you, but not quite with us at the time."

I groaned. "Who did I confuse you for?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Your father," he said quietly. "You kept asking if you'd done enough to make up for being a mage so I'd love you again." Nathaniel's face colored even as sympathy clouded over his features. "I had no idea what to do. I… just went along with it, gave you a hug and let you cry. It seemed to help, you fell back asleep eventually. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have intruded. I've felt awful about it ever since. I just didn't know what else to do."

"Don't," I told him. "Checking on me yourself was the rational thing to do. We don't like to talk about it, but possession is a worry for any mage." I was reminded of Cullen's torture in the tower suddenly. "Depending on what kind of demon, there is a good chance Anders end up enthralled before he realized it. And what you did was… so incredibly kind. You're one of my best friends; you don't have anything to apologize for." I gave him a quick hug. He still looked embarrassed, but less guilty. It was a step, I suppose. I couldn't pretend I wasn't just as embarrassed.

"Yes, well… I suppose I can understand what it's like to be rejected by your own parents," he said with a shrug.

"If it makes you feel any better your father hated me way more," I said. Nathaniel stared at me for a moment, too shocked to reply, before his face contorted. A moment later he was nearly doubled over, hands resting on the desk as he laughed uncontrollably. Seeing the normally stoic Nathaniel in that condition was enough to start me laughing as well. When Varel returned with Rose they found us both slumped over the desk, tears pouring down our faces, struggling for air as we fought to stop our hysterics.

"We must have missed a great joke," she said, looking at us with surprise.

"I'm sorry," Nathaniel said once he'd managed to calm down. "I think you'd have to have met my father to understand." He started snickering again after saying that, destroying the progress I'd made at regaining control of my own giggles.

"Was his father a funny man?" I heard Rose ask Varel. His clipped response of a simple "no" sent me tumbling to the floor, clutching my sides. Eventually I managed to climb back to my feet, smoothing my robes and still holding my side.

"I don't remember the last time I laughed that much," Nathaniel said, wiping his eyes. "It wasn't even that funny!"

"I was fine until you started up again!" I said. Composure regained, I showed Rose the sightings we'd put on the map and told her my plan.

"So… just me?" she asked finally.

"Well, you and whoever you decide on for the team." I gave her some recommendations, which Rose listened to carefully. "The final decision is yours. This is your mission."

"Really?" her eyes went wide.

"Really," Nathaniel said.

"Thank you," she said, obviously surprised. "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," I assured her. "Plan to leave tomorrow. The nobles are going to be here, stick around for that meeting just in case there have been more sightings." She made a face. "I can't stand dealing with them, either. They might have useful information this time, though." I remembered our trip to the mines. "Just… don't go in, not if you can avoid it at all. If you're not back when we return from Denerim I'm going to go out looking for you." I told her what happened when we met the Architect and Rose's face paled. "I'm not sending you to fight _anyone_. I just want information. Observe traffic in and out, try to get close enough to sense their numbers, things like that. Ideally you won't actually fight the darkspawn at all while you're gone. Stealth and caution are the top priority, even if information suffers as a result." Her confidence returned with that and I couldn't help but feel relieved. I didn't want them rushing to their deaths, after all.

I spent the better part of the day just wandering the Keep and grounds, checking in with the new Wardens, trying to learn names and faces. I arranged to start working with the mages on arcane warrior techniques when we returned. That would mean they were all trained when the Orlesian mages arrived, and already on to working with the fighters on basic sword techniques. It would allow them to see the magic in action on a larger scale. The Wardens of Orlais could handle the weaponry aspect of the mage's training, they only needed me for the spellcraft portion.

Aidan cornered me when I was on the south battlements speaking with several archers who had set up there to practice. "Have a second?" he asked.

I let the archers get back to work. "Of course. What do you need?"

"Is there somewhere we can go? I want to ask you about something." I nodded and led him to my sitting room. Once we had settled by the fire I waited for him to speak. "I'm glad you're teaching us that fighting magic," he said.

"It's really very useful," I said. "And just learning to use a sword will always be handy. If you ever have mana clash cast on you by an emissary or have to deal with being smited it'll keep you in the fight, or even if you're just too low on mana to keep casting." Most mages were far less threatening than people assumed. Take away their magic and they couldn't even defend themselves against an angry peasant armed with a stick. I'd ended up hurt many times during the blight because I simply couldn't cast anymore and didn't have lyrium to fall back on. Learning those spells had saved my life several times over.

"True," he admitted. "It's something I worry about. I almost ended up lyrium-addled when I was out with my second group of recruits. We were finishing up the last couple darkspawn and another group came across us, I had to switch to potions to keep going. I beat a genlock to death with my staff since I had started stumbling when I drank my last potion and knew I'd be completely useless if I had any more." I nodded in understanding. "So… that's basically when I decided I wanted to ask you if you could show me how to use blood magic."

"Even seeing what it can do to you?"

Aidan nodded. "I know it doesn't always, that was a huge spell. And if you hadn't done that… well, someone would have died. Anders is annoyed, but that's just because he hates blood magic and can't even stand _thinking_ of you in danger much less seeing it. I was there, though. I know it's true." He sighed. "It took everything I had just to get Anders conscious again, and once he was awake he finished the healing himself. He was _really_ hurt, but I didn't want to scare you with how severe it was at the time. If someone else was injured after that I wouldn't have been able to do anything for them, not with how much lyrium I'd needed to keep fighting. Dermott's a decent healer, and after a few classes with Anders I bet he'll end up better than I am, but he's not yet. And I'm nowhere near the league Anders is in. I don't think anyone is, though. He can practically raise the dead."

"No, he can't do that," I assured him. "Although I've seen him nearly knock himself unconscious trying."

Aidan snorted. "You know what I mean. I'll never be a healer like him. I'm good enough to take care of most injuries, and that's just thanks to him, but most of my talent still lies in fighting. I just…" he paused, pushing his hair back and considering his words. "I just hate the idea of being caught drained and defenseless. Especially if I'm supposed to be watching over other people. I hate worrying that someone could die because I'm half-mad on potions or too weak to cast a spell. I want something to fall back on when I run into a problem I can't handle with normal magic. I don't care _what_ the Chantry says, if what I do keeps Wardens alive and make the darkspawn dead it's the right thing to do, regardless of where the magic comes from."

"All right," I agreed. "We can start when I get back from Denerim." He thanked me, looking less nervous. "So, um," I said finally. "Nathaniel said you two checked on me when I was… sick?"

"Yeah," he agreed, coloring slightly. "He suspected you might be dead, or close to, and Anders wouldn't admit the truth. I was more worried your spell was large enough to draw some… unwanted attention from the Fade your way. I could practically feel the Veil ripple when you did that. You were… pretty out of it. Don't worry about it."

"I just wanted to let you know checking was the right thing. I wish you didn't have to see me like that, but if it was anyone else and I was in charge I would have ordered the same thing." I blushed, remembering what Nathaniel had told me. "I admit, I feel like an ass for how I acted. I really don't even know why I'd care about something like that, it isn't as though I think about it when I'm well."

"You and almost every mage in Thedas have the same thing rattling around their head somewhere," he said with a shrug. He was right about that, for every family like Anders' there were ten like mine or Jowan's whose ingrained hatred of mages turned just as easily on their own children. Maybe the new sympathy people had for anyone born with magic would change that, but it was far too late for us.

"True, but I haven't even _seen_ them in more than twenty years." Aidan snickered at that. "Go on, laugh it up. You won't be nineteen forever, either."

"Says who?" he asked. "I don't have a birthday, so as far as I'm concerned I don't age."

"Oh, and I'm sure if I popped over to Shianni's house this week she wouldn't be able to tell me your birthday," I countered. Aidan held a hand up in defeat.

"You were so out of it I'm amazed you even knew someone else was in the room," he said. "Forget it even happened." I nodded gratefully. At least if I was going to humiliate myself in front of someone it was around friends. I decided didn't even want to know why my mind had decided that was what I would latch on to.

* * *

I would have to remind myself that hoping for usefulness out of most of the nobility was about as reasonable as hoping for poetry out of a mabiri. They only wanted me to tell them the darkspawn would be eliminated, never to return. Since, of course, not doing so was simply an oversight on my part. My patience was at the breaking point.

"As I've said," I began again, carefully and _politely_ explaining for perhaps the seventieth time, "we are _dealing_ with the sightings. I have teams of scouts ready to leave, they were only waiting for your arrival to see if there would be new information that could help their investigation. I do not _know_ why they're returning to the surface, that's what we're trying to discover. Once we have a better picture of the situation we can plan a full assault. Until then any attempts would be suicide. I'm not about to risk the lives of my people needlessly. This is why we _have_ scouts."

"Why haven't you just gotten rid of them?" someone shouted. "You're Wardens, aren't you?"

I counted to ten slowly in my head. "If it was that easy to simply 'get rid of' the darkspawn don't you think the Wardens would have done so a thousand years ago?"

"What good are you, then?" someone else called. I could see Nathaniel put a hand on Sigrun's shoulder holding her back even as Andres whispered something to him. Good to know I wasn't the only one who saw red when I heard that. Apparently our saving the entire Arling less than a year earlier had been largely forgotten. Glad to know we lost all those people for nothing. Not to mention that whole 'shortest blight in Thedas history' thing. Well, so much for being polite, they started it.

"If you have a secret way to wipe out the tens of thousands of darkspawn living in the deep roads I'd _love_ to hear it, and I'd also love to know why you've kept it from us for a millennia. Since, you know, I've only devoted my life to fighting them, as part of an order than exists for no other reason. I fought the sodding _archdemon,_ but I guess I clearly don't know _what_ I'm talking about. Do you think I can stomp my foot and _wish_ them out of existence? I'm not the bloody Maker himself!"

"What the Commander means," Nathaniel said, jumping in, "is that we are aware of how upsetting this is for all of you, and just as bothered by it. They _will_ be dealt with, and quickly." I opened my mouth to say something else but Nathaniel quickly pinched the back of my arm hard enough to make me yelp. "We wish we could promise you the darkspawn would never return but frankly, that's as far out of our hands as it is yours," he continued smoothly, smiling at the nobles. "It is a situation that has led to no end of frustration for all of us, as I'm sure you can tell. We are the best in Thedas at dealing with the darkspawn, though. You can be assured that, while we may not be able to drive them to extinction, no one is better able to protect you from them and deal with their appearance than we are. Our numbers have more than tripled in the last week and we are in a better position than ever to ensure the security of Amaranthine and Ferelden." He went on, answering their questions while I fumed silently.

At last the nobles left. "Commander's got a temper on her," one commented as they filed out. "No wonder she keeps the Howe boy around, at least he knows how to behave around civilized people."

"Manners suited for a battlefield," another said.

"Indeed," agreed a third. "Reminds me of Loghain." I smiled hearing that, glad at least one of them still liked me. I called out 'thank you' and waved as they left. Nathaniel put a hand to his forehead, groaning in frustration.

"That reminds me, Arnora will be here next month for the dedication of the statue," I said. "I took a peek under the tarp. It looks _fantastic_."

"I'm going to _kill you_," Nathaniel muttered. "You do realize we need their support, don't you? And that comparing you to Loghain was _not_ a compliment. Most of the nobility hated him."

"Why?" I asked. "Once he wasn't trying to kill me anymore I realized he wasn't bad at all. Very straightforward and honest, more people should be like that. Surprisingly funny too, in a very dry and sarcastic sort of way. You would have liked him."

"I did," Nathaniel said. "I also got sent out of the _country_ by my father since I was so poorly suited to take over the Arling. They all hated Loghain because he had no patience with idiots, didn't know how to sugarcoat everything he said, and was born a commoner." Nathaniel sighed again, sounding more like the First Enchanter each time. "You know, exactly like you." I laughed at that.

"None of those sound like bad things to me. Our _king_ is the bastard son of a maid, remember. Shoot, I'm a mage, for all they know I'm some noble's secret shame. And it's funny but they didn't act like they hated him during the blight."

"Of course not," he said. "They only liked him when they needed him to win a war." _How very familiar,_ I thought. Nathaniel, perhaps realizing what I was thinking, or jumping to the same conclusion himself, sighed again. "Just… _try_ to be nice. Pretend to take them seriously, even when they are being complete fools. This is exactly why I'm going to Denerim with you."

"What do they think?" I said, waving my hand in annoyance. "That we _could_ eliminate them and simply _choose_ not to? That's way beyond foolish." Not to mention how offensive I found it personally. I might be reckless and incapable of dealing with nobles, but I'd put down money that I was the best darkspawn killer in Ferelden. Being a Warden was easily the only thing I've _ever_ been good at, the implication that I was somehow failing in my duties or incompetent stuck me deeper than any of their insults of the order itself.

"I know," he said. "But you have to act like you're taking them seriously. It's just… the way things are done." He shook his head. "And I wish I knew how to sense a 'Maggie anger moment' before it starts like Anders can. Is it when you push your hair back? Is it the foot stomp?"

"It's when the air around her starts to feel like it does right before she does she casts a really big inferno spell," Anders said. "Her magic spikes and you can feel heat rolling off her like a bonfire. If you were a mage you'd know it from a mile away. She practically glows red."

"That doesn't help me in the least," Nathaniel said.

"Hey, you asked," Anders shrugged. "I think it went fine. She was nice for almost three hours. I'm actually astounded her temper held out as long as it did. Particularly since it was three hours of the same questions over and over."

"It's kind of nice to see that idiocy and nobility are linked everywhere," Sigrun mused. Turning to Nathaniel she added "aren't you glad you're not one of them anymore?"

"I still have to act like it," Nathaniel said. "I think we're about twenty years too late to train Maggie on how to act in public."

"Awww," Sigrun replied with exaggerated sympathy. "But then, it gives you a reason to mope around. If your life was perfect you might have to be cheerful." She pinched his side through his armor, causing Nathaniel to make a surprised squeaking noise and blush.

"Most of them could use a good kick in the pants," Rose said. "_What good are you_? Where have they been the last three years?" She shook her head. "Well, that was a big waste of all of our time. I guess I'll be off to stomp around the woods." She left not long after, I was pleased to see she took my advice on who to bring, and also selected one of the apostates who had managed to combine scouting skills with healing. I suspected she was from one of the Chasind tribes, but she hadn't said one way or another and I knew enough not to ask. A good pick, most mages weren't terribly adept at stealth, but a healer was always a smart idea. We wished them luck as they left.

"Aw, kind of like sending the children off to their first day of Chantry school," Anders chuckled.

"Once again, I'm relieved we'll never have to worry about you raising a child," I said, watching the six heavily armed Wardens stomp through the courtyard towards the front gates.

"Your loss," Anders said. "Any children of ours would have been _gorgeous_. And I'd even let you name it Griffon." I pretended to be tempted by the idea, earning another groan from Nathaniel.

"Kidding," Anders and I both said at roughly the right time. "Let's get ready to go," I added.

Both men took off up the stairs to get their things. Since he still considered me an invalid Anders wouldn't even let me carry a cup of coffee for myself. "Anything yet?" I asked Sigrun when they had left.

"I am _going insane_," she replied. "_Oghren_ is starting to look good. I should just give up." She sighed. "I don't know why it matters, I'm dead anyways, it wouldn't last."

"We're all dead," I pointed out. She made a chattering gesture with her hand. "What? We are."

"Well, I'm _more_ dead. I'll have to go back to the Legion eventually."

"I know," I sighed. "But… why rush? Go back when you get the Calling. Almost everyone I was friends with growing up is dead. I don't want to lose anyone else."

Sigrun looked up at me, narrowing her eyes. "You are… very good at that. My own mother couldn't wield guilt like you can."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, I'm being honest. Selfish, but honest."

"Well… I wasn't planning on leaving _today_." She tried to sound annoyed but gave up and smiled.

"So… want me to say something to him?" I asked, changing the subject to something that didn't involve our inevitable deaths.

"Ancestors, no! How embarrassing would that be?"

We dropped the subject quickly as Nathaniel and Anders returned. "Did you get my armor?" I asked.

"Yes, and mine," Anders said, walking ahead of me to open the door.

I held my cloak around me as they packed the coach, watching with detachment. Most of my interest was given to the crowded courtyard. Full of Wardens, I could see people practicing techniques of all kinds, laughter and chatter rising above the sound of clashing weapons and sizzling spells.

"Are you awake in there?" Anders asked, waving a hand in front of me.

"Of course," I said. "Just… looking. There's so many of us now. It finally feels like we're finally a force to be reckoned with."

"And we weren't before?" Anders laughed. "Well, thank you."

"You know what I mean," I protested. "We're now beyond the numbers the order had before the Blight."

He laughed. "I do. And yes, it finally looks like things are coming together. You've done an amazing job."

Before I could remind him I was hardly working alone one of the apostates casting spells on the battlements with Aidan screamed out "templar!' I looked at the road and saw two men on horseback approaching. I could recognize the distinctive armor and helms from a distance and shook my head as I went to wait by the gates.

"I think I'll have a bit of fun," I said, loud enough to attract the attention of most of the courtyard. I noticed a shuffling behind me, as people gathered around to watch. Even the mages had run down the stairs from the battlements for a better view when they saw everyone grouping together.

"Warden Commander? We have need to speak with you," one said when they stopped, dismounting and remaining carefully outside the bounds of the Keep.

"Helmets off," I replied.

"Pardon?"

"_Helmets off. Now._" I glared at them. "This is not a battlefield, and it is _rude_ to hide your face from others during conversation. I have no interest in speaking to you until they are gone. Remove them or I will remove them for you." They both quickly complied, looking nervous and very, very young. The one who had been silent so far actually muttered 'yes, ser' as he did, eliciting snickers from several of the assembled Wardens. "Much better," I said, smiling. "Now, what do you need from the Grey Wardens?"

"We are here about the apostates being harbored at Vigil's Keep." He tried to stare me down and failed, eventually breaking eye contact before I did. Didn't they know _anything_ about me? I never backed down from a confrontation, even when reason, common sense, and logic all screamed out that I should.

"Really?" I said, feigning confusion. "There are no apostates at Vigil's Keep. Only Grey Wardens."

"Grey Wardens who are apostates!" the second spoke up.

"Now gentlemen, there's no need for name calling. I'll explain this to you _once_. After we decide someone is going to become a Warden you cannot touch them. Under the Right of Conscription established after the first blight I can take _anyone_ I want. The Chantry signed onto those same treaties at the end of the second blight, as did King Clanahad himself after the unification of Ferelden. I have some very nice copies of all of the treaties framed in my office, should you be interested in reading them yourselves. They're not written in the common tongue, but since I personally find the history of our order fascinating and enjoy sharing it with people whenever I can I'd be happy to translate. My Ancient Tevinter is actually rather good."

"Yes, but—" one began. I sighed.

"Yes but they don't apply to you? Yes but an eight hundred year old treaty means nothing to the Grand Cleric? I'm sorry, but His Majesty completely disagrees, and I have confirmation that the Divine wants nothing to do with the Grand Cleric's petty actions and actually holds me in great respect. The First Warden is _very _annoyed with this nonsense, let me assure you. Having him complain to the Divine certainly won't paint Ferelden in the most positive light, would it? The law says I can conscript _anyone_. Should the urge strike me I can have you both pulled inside and put through the Joining right now." I looked them over appraisingly, enjoying how they squirmed. "You're both young enough to be of use to me, and am in need of more trained as warriors," I mused.

"You wouldn't _dare_," the first said. His words were more nervous than threatening, though.

"Wouldn't I?" I laughed. "You are being sent off to act on the Grand Cleric's personal grudges, not the will of the Maker or Divine. You are two templars surrounded by the members of Thedas' most legendary order of warriors?" I shook my head, waiving a hand at the thirty or so people milling around behind us, watching our every move. "Not a smart move. Go home, men. I'm starting to get annoyed and the idea of conscripting you both simply to tweak the Grand Cleric's nose is sounding more and more appealing."

"Her Grace will hear of this!" the first sputtered.

"I'm sure she will," I agreed. "As will His Majesty. Now leave, don't return, and don't harass my Wardens again. If you do I won't be nearly as nice as I have been today. I'm not exactly famous because of my fine manners, after all." They both took off at a full gallop as the Wardens behind me erupted in laughter. I turned and bowed, laughing myself and glad I had Leliana tell me about bard traning even if I couldn't apply most of it not being a rogue. I had to admit, humiliating them into running away was far less politically disastrous than fighting them outright.

"They're terrified of you," one of the new mages gasped.

"They should be," Anders said. "A templar tried that nonsense after I joined. I'd never seen a mage fight like that before in my life. It was _glorious." _


	33. You're going to talk to it, aren't you?

We made camp that night in the shadow of a small hill, sheltered from most of the cold wind. Thankfully the winter seemed to be drawing to a close at last. "How have your nightmares been?" Nathaniel asked Ronan.

He seemed to consider this, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. "Enlightening," he finally said.

"Oh?" I asked. It was an unusual response to say the least. I would have gone with disturbing, terrifying, or even annoying over that.

"It makes sense now," he said. "What you told me, in Orzammar, about Wardens. About why they're so loyal no matter what they had been before. Seeing it for myself…" Ronan shook his head. "I—I saw them digging. I think they were looking for an old god. People talk but... I _saw_ it, actually saw it with my own eyes. Well, so to speak."

"I've seen that, too," I agreed. "During the Blight I saw the archdemon itself. Apparently some of the older Wardens can understand them as well as see them. I hope I never do."

He looked horrified at the thought. "Me neither," Ronan agreed. "But… those people today, they acted like we were _useless_ or something. They don't understand!"

"No, they don't," I agreed. "And eventually they'll start to forget the darkspawn ever walked the surface, and question why Wardens still exist at all."

"We should tell them, not keep it so secret. If they knew _how_ we know…" he paused, coming to the inevitable conclusion. "They would listen to us, but no one would ever willingly join the Wardens."

"Exactly," I said.

"When King Maric brought the Wardens back people laughed," Nathaniel added. "They thought he was being sentimental. My grandfather, he joined the Wardens. Or tried. This was even before they were in Ferelden again. No one in the family ever forgave him." He sighed. "The order was a joke among the nobility right up until the blight began. My brother's letters told me how everyone thought Cailin was being a fool, trusting them to end it. No one realized they were _needed_. They thought it was all myth the Wardens constructed just to keep themselves relevant, and we'd be better with someone like Loghain leading us, not some barely-Fereldens from an antique order."

"Huh. We used to play games of Grey Warden when I was a boy," Ronan said.

"Me too," Anders agreed. "I think common people like us, though, since we take anyone. It doesn't matter where we came from or how high-born they are or aren't."

"Where did you grow up?" I asked Ronan, realizing I knew very little about his life before the Chantry.

"In the south, near the Hinterlands. My mother died when I was very young, I never knew her. My father raised me, he had a small freehold. He died at the start of the blight, helping a neighbor defend their farm. There was no one to take me in, and I was barely four and ten, too young to stay on the land alone. So, I ended up at the Chantry. I didn't mind it, they really made it sound great. Doing the Maker's work, belonging somewhere, a real brotherhood, all of that. The reality didn't quite live up to my training."

"I'm sorry," I told him.

"I like to think things happen for a reason," he said. "I was no more suited to be a farmer than I was a templar. We had a good life. I wish it had been longer, but I'm certainly not the only one who lost a parent then. I'm not even the only Warden who did. Some of the people I met, the other new people, they had similar stories." He chuckled suddenly. "Fitting I end up here, though, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm glad you decided to join us," I told him.

"What about all of you? Where are you from?" he asked. Anders and I both told him where we were from, and how we ended up in the Wardens.

"Did you ever try to find your mother?" Nathaniel asked Anders. "I'm sure we could spare you two to go down there for a bit." I gestured for him to stop talking, but it was too late. "And judging by Maggie's frantic hand waving I shouldn't have asked that, should I?"

"Plague," Anders said simply. "Not long before my first escape. The irony that I'm a healer by trade isn't lost on me." I squeezed his hand. Both Ronan and Nathaniel offered condolences. "Thank you. It was a long time ago," Anders said.

"What about you?" Ronan asked Nathaniel.

Anders coughed, shocked. "You don't _know_?" he said.

"Clearly not if he's asking," Nathaniel replied for Ronan. He shook his head, smiling slightly. "I'm from Amaranthine, actually. I spent years squiring in the Free Marches, missed the whole blight. A few weeks after my return I was caught breaking into the Keep to kill Maggie since she killed my father. She decided that because it took four Wardens to bring me down I should be on her side instead. I was… not pleased." I snorted with laughter. I'd say demanding we hang him instead was far more than 'not pleased.' "A few months later she made me her second in command."

"Well, I would have let you go. I was planning on it, until you started in on that 'if I come back you might not catch me next time' stuff." Ronan's jaw dropped, staring at us. "Tell him _who_ your father was," I said. "Otherwise you sound like a madman." Actually, on reflection, having the full story might not make us seem any less insane.

"I don't know, I'm enjoying this," Nathaniel said. "It's tempting to make him guess." He chuckled.

"It… it was a noble, right?" Ronan guessed. "You know how to deal with them, and it seems like you understand that world, from what you've said."

"It was," Nathaniel agreed. "Specifically, my father was Arl Howe," he said finally, smiling at Ronan's shock. "It goes without saying that I did not have the full story about what happened during the Blight when I returned. I only knew she killed my father and was living in my family's home. My sister helped fill in some of the details. She lives at the Keep now, her husband is one of the merchants. The tall man with the shop near Wade."

Ronan shook his head with surprise. "I would never have guessed that. Not in a thousand years. No wonder you know how to talk to those nobles, though."

"Lucky me," Nathaniel said dryly.

"I couldn't really blame him for being mad," I said by way of explanation. "I figured once he realized we weren't trying to use the war to grab for power and were actually decent people it would work out. I knew once he saw what we saw in his dreams he would understand, everyone always does. I think they wanted me to hang him, but I couldn't see why I should. Sure, his father was an ass, but that doesn't make him one."

"It's his sparkling personality that does," Anders said, smiling at Nathaniel, who hit him across the back of the head. "Ow," he protested, rubbing his head. "You know, I really don't know what someone as nice as Sigrun sees in you."

I snapped "Anders!" to shut him up at the same time Nathaniel said "What?" We both turned to look at him.

"What what?" Anders replied.

"What about Sigrun? What are you talking about?" Nathaniel was staring at Anders as though he'd gone mad.

"You can't say you didn't know," Anders said. "Do you live in a cave?"

"You are insane," he said. "She's constantly telling me to cheer up and teasing me. I think I annoy her. She's not… interested in me. Like that."

"The dwarf girl?" Ronan asked. "With the tattoos and pigtails? The one with the great smile?" I nodded. "It's pretty obvious," he said to Nathaniel. "Even I could tell and I just met both of you."

"You are both delusional," Nathaniel said. "Maggie, you're closer with Sigrun than either of them. Would you tell them, please?" I remembered her begging me not to say anything to him and fumbled for a response. It must have taken too long for me to come up with something. "Oh Maker," he moaned, putting his hands in his face.

"She didn't want me to say anything," I said. "She figured if you were interested you would have made it known in some way." I paused. "Are… you interested? In her? Like that?"

Nathaniel looked up, glaring at me. "I let her give me a _sodding tattoo_, what do you think! I don't want a tattoo. Why would I? Have I ever struck you as the type of man who wants a tattoo? And it _hurt_." He shook his head, groaning again. "Sigrun just mentioned it and suddenly I was sitting there on her bed with no shirt hoping I didn't say something stupid or wince too much and look weak and worried I looked… scrawny compared to dwarven men. I don't even remember agreeing! She just asks something and I smile and nod, I can't stop myself!"

"Andraste's knickers, man," Anders muttered. "Life is _short_. Especially our lives! Say something already."

"I… yes. I will." He smiled suddenly. "Huh."

* * *

We actually managed to reach Denerim in good time. The compound shone with new woodwork and furnishings. It was sparse and utilitarian, but comfortable. Just before I planned to leave for the palace proper I removed a painting from the wall, wrapping it carefully in a clean sheet and tucking it with my things.

"What's that?" Anders asked.

"Hiding it," I said. "Just in case Alistair comes by. He'll want it, but I'm taking it back to Amaranthine."

He got up and looked behind my careful concealment. "Let me guess. Middle aged man I've never seen, and you expect Alistair to squabble over it. Duncan?"

"That's him," I said. "His official portrait, which makes it Warden property, which means it's going back to Amaranthine before His Majesty is the wiser."

"So, this whole 'it's Warden property' thing? You're just making that up because you want it, right?"

"What? No, don't be silly."

"Right," Anders said, looking at me with amusement. "You do realize the two of you bicker over everything of his like jealous siblings."

"That's absurd," I said. "Well, maybe Alistair does. But I don't. I'm only thinking of the order. He was the Commander before me. It should be hung somewhere important."

"Obviously," Anders said. "You're going to talk to it, aren't you?"

"Of course not," I protested. I had talked… to myself, about the current state of the order, just a bit. While looking at the painting. But that was totally different. "And he got his shield," I added. "It's my turn."

"You got the daggers," Anders reminded me. "And the sword."

"Yes, but they're a set so that's like one thing," I protested. "The sword was made to match the daggers. Besides," I added, "he told me I was his apprentice. Everyone knew, apparently. Even people I didn't meet until well after he died. He never told Alistair that. And since the daggers were given to him by _his_ commander it makes sense I have them. And when I decide who will succeed me they'll get them. So they're not really _mine,_ they're the Commander of the Grey's weapons. That it just happens to be me now is completely coincidental."

"That is a very, very elaborate justification," Anders said. "Which boils down to 'because _I _want it."

Someone knocked on the door before I could argue that. "Come in," I called.

"Someone's here to see you, Maggie," Ronan said after opening the door and peeking in.

"Strange. We're not expecting anyone. Not the king, is it?"

"Oh, no," he gasped. "Just some blonde fellow in splitmail. Maybe he saw us and wants to join? Are- are you expecting the king to come _here_?"

"Not really, I was about to go find him," I said, grinning. "All right. Could you show this blonde in splitmail back here?" I managed to keep a straight face until he left before I broke down in laughter. "This will be good," I said.

"You know who it is?" Anders said.

"It's Alistair. He sneaks around in his old splitmail when he doesn't want to drag guards with him."

"You didn't tell?"

"I didn't want him fainting."

"Aw. You're no fun," Anders said.

"Isn't that your job?" I asked him, giggling.

"Hm, is it?" Anders grinned. When Ronan returned I saw I guessed correctly, Alistair was standing behind him looking curious. "Your Majesty, as always, it is truly an honor," Anders said, dropping to an exaggerated bow as I gave the king a hug in greeting.

"M-maker's breath," Ronan stuttered, dropping to his knee. "Your Majesty, I'm so sorry, I- I didn't know…"

"You are a bad man," Alistair said, pointing at Anders.

"I know, I am. I really, really am." He stood up and grinned before grasping Alistair's arm in greeting.

"Please, just… get up," Alistair muttered at Ronan. "Come on, brother, on your feet. No Warden bows to me. Except that ass," he added, gesturing at Anders. "Why is it you keep him around again?" he asked me.

"Are you kidding? Who do you think put that idea in his head?"

"Obviously. I forgot, you're just as horrible. Thank you for reminding me."

"Thank you, Ronan," I said, laughing. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Go on and grab yourself some dinner. If you see Nathaniel let him know Alistair is here."

"Yes, Maggie," he said, running off before I could say anything else.

"New?" Alistair asked.

"Very. Long story," I told him.

"We got your spy, so I've been expecting you. Took your time getting here, though. He gave enough information up for a six page report with nothing more than the promise we wouldn't leave him alone with 'that Howe maniac' to spur him on. Between that and the papers brought by your man I had the Grand Cleric taken in and a Landsmeet called. Everyone should be here tomorrow." He sighed. "Providing the city doesn't break into a riot by then, which they just might. Having the Grand Cleric locked in Fort Drakon was… not a popular decision."

"Our Commander overdid it again, she just got off bedrest. That's why we're late," Anders said, shaking his head and giving me a brief annoyed glare again. "Just the bi-annual assassination attempt, the spy was coincidental but helpful. Figured you'd want to chat with the hired help. Nice kid, isn't he?"

"Very funny," Alistair said. "Wait, you're serious?" I nodded and he groaned in response. "Of course," Alistair groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed. "That's what the spy's confession seemed to indicate. This won't be pretty. No one will agree to just execute her."

"She sent six templars into the Deep Roads to kill us!" I snapped, pounding a fist on the table. "Five didn't even make it that far, those men were _completely _unprepared for what's down there, she may as well have killed them herself. The sixth is only alive because he never agreed with her plan in the first place and knew siding with us was his only chance to survive. We eventually won him over completely, he went through the Joining last week." I grinned at Alistair. "He said if anyone is doing the Maker's work it's the Wardens, not the templars. Even knowing my… magical views."

"Well, I can agree with that," Alistair said. "I understand… I just mean, yes something has to be done, but I can't just have her executed. The Banneron would _riot_."

"So… I do it myself?" I asked. That is what Weisshaupt would want, although I wasn't keen on the idea. No way would I be able to get in and out with _only_ her body in my wake, and I hated killing innocent bystanders. I hated admitting it, but the idea of being able to kill her myself made me a bit giddy with joy. Alistair was right, I was a bad person.

"What? Maker, no. Mags, are you _insane_? She's the Grand Cleric!" He sighed. "The landsmeet will have to decide."

"I'm not going to wait for long," I warned him. "And I'm not letting her get away with this. I want her _dead_. Not soon, _now_. I've got more important things to do than worry about some old bitch trying to kill off Wardens."

"Aren't you the bloodthirsty one," Anders said.

"Yes, well… I can deal with attacks against me. I'm used to it. This is a threat against the Wardens. You know what Johann from Weisshaupt said."

"You met someone from Weisshaupt?" Alistair asked, sounding impressed.

"He came to deliver a big pile of money," Anders said. "We might be richer than you now." Alistair raised an eyebrow at that.

"They also wanted to confirm I didn't kill the former Grand Cleric, not because they disapproved but since magic would have been sloppy. And to tell me if anyone gets in the way of my duties the First Warden expects it to be taken care of quickly, but not in any way that could be traced to me," I added.

"Wow… there's another shattered illusion," Alistair said, shaking his head.

"Any means necessary," I reminded him. "What if we'd been killed in the deep roads? More than half the Wardens in Ferelden killed in one attack, including the Commander? I can't stand for something like that. Those talking darkspawn are back, that _should_ be what I'm dealing with now. Not this."

Alistair paled. "I had suspected… my dreams were getting strange again. This is bad."

"Yes," I agreed, "it is. And once again I'm in Denerim dealing with this Chantry mess instead of doing my job keeping Ferelden safe from them! It has to end _now_. If the landsmeet won't agree I _will_ do it myself, I have no other choice."

"She's right, you know," Nathaniel said, appearing in the doorway. "The nobles in Amaranthine are ready to riot since we're here and not there, and it isn't as though we can explain why. This is _not_ our job. We should be fighting darkspawn, not dabbling in political intrigues." He shrugged. "I say let me deal with the woman. Quick and quiet with no one the wiser, as the First Warden ordered."

"Wow…" Alistair said, staring at him. "You're _all_ insane. I'd like to discuss this with Eamon. I have some additional information from… another source, as well. I'll invite him to join us." He turned to Nathaniel. "And what did you _do_ to that spy? The man was all but begging to be hung as long as he wouldn't need to face you!"

"I never touched him," Nathaniel replied crisply. "I just talked to him for a little while. Imitating my father at his worst the entire time."

"Ah. I can see how that would work," Alistair said.

I nodded and led us out of the room, calling to Ronan to follow. "What's that wrapped up over there?" Alistair asked, glancing at my bag.

"Nothing," I replied quickly. "Just something I bought this afternoon."

"Shocked you had time to shop," he mused. I nodded and walked faster, hoping he wouldn't get curious. "I did a quick walk-through of the compound not long ago," Alistair went on. "Just after the repairs were done."

"Oh?" I said.

"So you must realize I noticed that the painting from the front hall is missing."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, ignoring Anders' snicker.

"It's a copy, you know," Alistair went on. "I already took the original. And I have another copy that was waiting to replace the one on the wall after you stole it."

"I did not _steal_ it," I said. "That's Warden property. It's going back to Amaranthine to be hung in the main hall of the Keep."

"Of course," Alistair said, patting me on the head.

"Don't pat me on the head," I said. "I'm not a mabari!"

"No," he agreed. "Mabari are far less predictable. And have better table manners." He danced away from me, laughing. "Kidding, kidding. Please don't turn me into a frog!"

"Someday I just might," I warned as we finally reached Alistair's study, kicking him in the backside. He hollered and jumped two feet before grabbing me by the neck and grinding his knuckles into the top of my head until I shrieked "yield! I yield!" We both fell into chairs laughing not long after.

Ronan gasped, looking at us. "They're always like this," Anders told him. "Feel free to ignore them. We usually do when they really get going. It's that whole 'we fought a war together' thing they have. It means they don't have to ever act like normal people around each other again, and we all have to smile and nod whenever they do something really violent and bizarre." He laughed. "I swear, this whole military bonding thing is even stranger than the way people look at mage behavior. I don't think I'll ever understand it."

"You all do it too," I replied quickly. "You and Oghren are the worst, but I've seen the two of you," I gestured at Anders and Nathaniel, "act just the same."

Anders laughed. "All right, I see your point. I got a good one in on the dwarf the other day, too. Almost made him fall beard-first into a torch."

"Speaking of manners," I said to Alistair, "please tell me you have food somewhere in this massive palace of yours?"

"I'm sure Eamon will have something sent up when he arrives," Alistair assured me. "He knows you're a pig." I made a face at Alistair, which he quickly mirrored back at me.

Sure enough, Eamon was followed by two servants carrying trays of food and drink. "Fantastic!" I said, grabbing a chunk of cheese off the tray. Without fail, Alistair always had cheese served. "I'm starved." Between bites I explained what happened, with Ronan filling in details as needed.

"So should I assume you're a Warden now?" Eamon asked, looking at Ronan.

"Actually, I was just getting to that part. How did you know?"

"Well, the armor was a dead giveaway," he said dryly. "But Maggie has a pattern."

"So I've discovered," Ronan admitted.

"Well…" Alistair said, looking more on edge. "That reminds me. I have more information, for once I know something _you_ don't already."

"How does that remind you?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes, um… we have a friend. Hm, I don't know if I'd say _friend_, but someone Maggie and I know—"

"Just send for him," I said, waiving my hand. Eamon nodded and quickly left the room. I'd long since figured out what Alistair was dancing around. I wasn't _thrilled_, but it was more because I had visions of Anders overreacting and frying someone to a crisp. "No lightning," I warned him quickly.

"Won't this be fun," he said. "_Fantastic_."

* * *

_A/N: So I've had huge chunks of the last few and next couple chapters written in advance for ages. I only had to get to this point in the story, edit and string them together. H__ence the massive frequent updating. __Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	34. Most women, they knit or garden

Anders was tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk, glowering at his feet while we waited for Eamon to return. I sighed. "Give us a moment, we'll be back. Feel free to gossip while I'm gone so everyone is at least up to speed on who hates who and why." I grabbed Anders by the buckles of his armor and pulled him to his feet. He sullenly followed me into the hall, where I located an empty bedroom and shut the door behind us. "What is your problem?" I asked, staring up at him.

"You have to ask? Should I be thrilled, instead? I finally get to meet the famous Zevran!"

"I think I do need to ask since you're being irrational," I replied, deciding it would be better to ignore the second half of his statement. "I haven't seen him in nearly three years, two of which I've been with you."

"I know," he admitted. "I… It's just…" Anders groaned, sitting on the floor against a wall. "I don't like talking about things like this," he said after a moment.

I sat across from him, cross-legged. "You know I don't, either," I said. "But since you're acting like I'm going to run out the door with him the moment we see each other I guess we should."

"I guess."

"I'm not going to," I added.

"You could, if you wanted," he said. "There's nothing… tying you to me."

I stared at him in confusion. Did he honestly think I would? "Where did this even come from? I love _you_," I reminded him.

"I just… Sometimes I wonder if you _want_ to be with me, or if it's just…" he shrugged. "By default."

"_What_?"

"I don't know," he said. "You had every reason to despise him, and ended up together regardless. He left you, maybe if he hadn't you would still be together. Me, I just pestered you until you gave in." He looked miserable, hands folded in his lap and staring at a patch of the floor slightly to my left. I moved over so we were next to each other, yanking at his arm until he would give me his hand.

"I've been thinking," I said slowly. "About what happened in the deep roads. Last week."

"Oh, when you almost tossed your life away just as I regained consciousness," he said. "Yes, I've been thinking about it as well. Waking up just in time to watch that? Lovely."

"I didn't know you were conscious," I reminded him. "I didn't… I thought you wouldn't wake up. I thought you were dead. Aidan tried to downplay it, but I'm no fool. Well, not _usually._ The blade went clean through both of your lungs, you were breathing out blood_._ I thought it was a fatal injury."

We were both silent for a bit. "What are you saying?" Anders eventually asked, finally looking at me.

"I know I'm reckless sometimes," I said. He snorted by way of response. I deserved that, I suppose. I had lost track of how many times Anders yelled because I did something he thought was insane. I'm never as cautious as he wants me to be. I try but I'm just not a cautious person by nature. "But I'm not _stupid_. That book had three pages of warnings against using your own blood on such a spell. 'Universally fatal,' it said. But I didn't even hesitate. I saw you, and then I did that. I've been trying so hard to remember what I was thinking then and I just can't. I remember everything that happened, but it's like my mind just… shut off." I bit my lip, looking down at my boots. "I always said I'd never let my personal life change how I did my job. That keeping things separate was the only way I could even allow myself to _have_ a personal life, since I know what we do is important. I've never had a problem before. But the second I thought I lost you I did… that. So don't you dare question if I actually love you or not."

Anders pulled me towards him, holding me in silence. "All right," he said finally. "I love you, I adore you, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I swear if you _ever_ do something like that again I will find you in the Fade itself and torture your spirit for the rest of eternity. I am not kidding, and you know I can do it. Is that clear?"

"Very," I said. "So… is everything all right now?"

Anders chuckled. "Absolutely. The highest religious leader in the nation wants us dead, the darkspawn are after us personally and made up a nickname for you, and we have to talk to _more_ nobles. Oh, and an assassin who, for once, isn't here to kill us specifically. I wouldn't have it any other way." He climbed to his feet first, offering me a hand once he was up. "Please don't think it petty of me that I'll be gloating over his loss and my gain, though."

"Petty? If you didn't I'd wonder if someone replaced you with a lookalike."

We linked hands and walked back to Alistair's study. Eamon still hadn't returned. "I don't care what she told you," Alistair said, noticing Anders' improved demeanor. "No lightning in the palace."

"You are both dead set on not letting me have _any_ fun, aren't you?" Anders said, plucking an apple from the picked-over tray of food. "Fine, fine. No lightning." Alistair moved to speak again. "Or ice, or fire. Or conjured boulders from the heavens. That cover it?"

"You can _do_ that? Just… create a boulder?" Alistair looked horrified.

"Sure," I said. "Want me to demonstrate?"

"No!"

I shrugged. "Your loss. It's pretty neat looking." He shook his head and resumed looking over paperwork.

The rest of us began discussing the Landsmeet. "I'm not giving you a chance to explode in a rage," Nathaniel said, "so I'll be sticking next to you. If I'm pinching your arm, stepping on your foot, or slapping my hand over your mouth while apologizing to someone it means stop talking."

"Got it," I laughed.

"Ah, so he's your Eamon, then?" Alistair laughed.

"I don't know, can the Chancellor take down a hurlock at a hundred yards with a single arrow?"

"No… something tells me he can't quite manage that. One arrow? Really?"

"Of course," Nathaniel said. "Aim for the head."

"Impressive," Alistair admitted.

"He's a Warden, isn't he?" I said. Everyone chuckled at that, raising our glasses to each other.

"Ah! Am I here in time for the drinking and telling of war stories?" an accented voice said from behind us. "Marvelous!" There was a shuffle as an additional chair was pulled to our rough circle around Alistair's massive desk. I glanced over. Apart from a slight change of hairstyle he looked, well, pretty much the same as the last time I saw him, although the leather armor had been replaced with what looked to be very expensive clothing in an unfamiliar style. Antivan, I assumed. Which is to be expected, as three years wasn't a terribly long time, and I certainly didn't look any different.

"Zevran," I said. "It's been a while. I didn't realize you were in Ferelden again."

"Indeed it has!" he agreed, not quite meeting my eyes. "I… hm, yes. It occurs to me, before we begin with the friendly discussion of conspiracy and murder that perhaps you and I should speak?" Oh goody, this will be fun. While I didn't think it was possible to _actually_ die from an awkward situation, if it was this would certainly be the one to put that to the test for me and everyone in the room. Better to get it over with quickly and at once, though, like yanking off a poultice. I could see Anders roll his eyes, but he gave me a quick gesture with his hand indicating I should go.

"If you want," I agreed, rising to my feet.

"You are well?" Zevran asked me after we stepped into the hallway and around a corner.

"Other than the death threat thing and the talking darkspawn …" I shrugged. "Yes, I am. You?"

"I am," he said. "I went to Antiva… spoke with some members of the Crows. After a dozen were found dead they agreed that I was in the right and I was reinstated." I couldn't help but grin and shake my head at that. "Well, promoted, actually. Publicly I am head of special investigations for His Majesty, but in truth I am that _and_ head of the Crows in Ferelden. We are branching out, as they say. It was determined that working with the crown would be wise for us all. Alistair looks the other way and in turn he receives our services when needed while remaining untouchable himself."

"Eamon's idea?" I asked, thinking there was no way Alistair would agree to such a thing, or ever believe he actually needed the Crows' services.

"Obviously," Zevran chuckled.

"Some of your people attacked me about two years ago," I said dryly. "Did you send me the trainees? It wasn't much of a fight."

He grimaced. "I swear to you, that was not me. A Bann Esmerelle approached me about it, I turned her down. I told her she was a fool to challenge you. She went over my head, to Antiva. When they learned the 'Arlessa of Amaranthine' the contract was made for was, in fact, you… they were not pleased at her subterfuge. I made sure her death looked like a suicide, though. I didn't wish suspicions to be cast upon you."

"I thought her death _was_ suicide," I said. "I never heard otherwise."

"What can I say?" he replied archly. "I am very good. I wrote to you, warning that she had contacted me. Did you not get my letter? I sent it while traveling in Antiva, but it should have reached you well before the attack." I distinctly remembered receiving his letter. I also remembered burning it without even opening it. "What are you thinking about?" Zevran asked. "It hasn't been so long that I've forgotten how to tell."

"I got the letter. I might have… um… destroyed it without reading it."

"I see," he said and fell silent for a moment. "I should have expected as much. In all honesty, I am surprised you're willing to speak with me at all even now."

"I don't hate you, Zevran," I told him. "I mean, this isn't the most _comfortable_ conversation I've ever had, but I don't wish you ill or anything like that. At the time I was… still angry, I think." I sighed. I didn't _want_ to have this discussion, but it was the entire reason we were here. "When you left… it really hurt me. Not just that you were gone, but that you didn't even think it was worth telling me to my face. I was finally starting to move past that. I stopped thinking about you every day, I stopped moping. I'd even met someone. I was _happy_. And then I got a letter from you, and it was like the wound threatened to reopen all over again. I couldn't even stand to look at it, so I got rid of it."

"I didn't intend to cause you pain," he said. "I never wanted that. I… I couldn't face you. I _had_ to leave, but knew I wouldn't if I looked at you. I tried, so many times, to bring it up. I just couldn't, every time I looked into your eyes I would find a reason to put it off. That was the only way I could make myself go."

"You never even told me you were unhappy," I said. "Why?"

"No!" he said, forcefully. "I was never unhappy with you. _Never_. Do not think that. I adored you. I still do."

"So… why? I know it's the past, I don't expect or _want_ anything to go back to how it was, but I'd still like to know."

He bit his lip for a moment. "Maggie, you're a hero. People adore you, they name children for you, when you shop somewhere the owner puts up a little sign so all who pass by know you once spent coin there." I rolled my eyes at this and he made a dismissive gesture. "Deny it all you want, you know it's true. What would those people say, were they to learn the famous Commander of the Grey was involved with a hired killer?" He sighed. "I knew you would return to the Wardens eventually, you did nothing but talk of griffons and ancient battles, even when we lived in the palace. How could you command the respect you deserved and rebuild the order with an assassin at your side?"

"I never cared that you were an assassin," I reminded him. "I never asked you to hide your past or made excuses for it. Why do you think I would suddenly start caring?"

"Yes, I _was_ an assassin," he said. "You were fine when it was in my past. But… if I was to resume my profession, what then? I don't think you would have been quite so content." Zevran raised an eyebrow, as if challenging me to disagree. I found I really couldn't. I would kill to defend the Wardens, true… but I considered that a necessary evil. Killing for money was something else entirely. Even the few favors I'd done for the Crows during the blight were along the lines of saving kidnapped children and chasing down Loghain and Howe's lackeys. I'd always reminded myself, in the time we were together, that he had no choice about joining the Crows. That he might have willingly returned to that life was something I preferred not to think about. "I am not one to sit by while others take care of him. I _must_ be my own person, I _must_ stand on my own feet. Living in the palace, doing nothing, existing on the generosity of Alistair, that's no life for people like you and I. Once you returned to your work it would be the same for me, only I would be living off the generosity of the Grey Wardens."

"You could always have joined us," I reminded him. "I offered."

"That you did," he agreed. "And I said no. I am no Grey Warden. A life of fighting, living in a tent, dealing with filth and monsters? I've seen enough of that to realize it was not for me. I—" he sighed. "You see, this is why I could not face you. It sounds so petty and selfish, to say it out loud. I wish I could say being with you would have been enough to make me happy. I told myself just that, many times. And perhaps it would have, but it would have been a life of misery, where _only_ you made me happy. That seems… unfair, to both of us."

"It does," I agreed. "I wouldn't want that. I understand your reasons, I really do. You're right, I wouldn't have been happy if you became an assassin again. It would bother me, and odds are it would have caused problems for the Wardens, which I couldn't ignore. And I wouldn't want to be the only reason you joined the Wardens. It isn't an easy life if you don't believe in what you're doing."

He nodded, looking relieved. I suppose he must have expected an argument of some kind. I don't want to assume he believed I'd be carrying a torch after years, but then, I believed his letter of warning was an attempt at reconciliation. If he was, I suppose we had that in common. "You are happy?" Zevran asked me.

"I am," I said. "It must sound crazy, since I'm here for this mess, and my normal job is killing darkspawn, but yes, I'm happy. We're doing fantastic, too. There are now more than fifty Wardens in Ferelden as of last week. That's more than they had even before the blight!"

Zevran laughed at that. "Ah, I ask if you are happy and you tell me the current state of the Grey Wardens in response. I should not be surprised by that. What of _you_, though? Not the Wardens. Is Maggie happy?"

"I am," I said. "Very. What about you?"

"You know me. I am happiest when I get to meet interesting people and kill them, ideally while surrounded with luxury. So yes, I would say I am happy. I find Ferelden has grown on me. People here, they have so much… enthusiasm. Such joy for life. When I go to Antiva now I'm struck by how cynical they all seem." He chuckled. "I suppose I am a Ferelden now. Who would have thought? Certainly not I. Although I still long for a decent meal. Everyone in this nation cooks like you and Alistair." I laughed at that. He and Leliana had taken over cooking duties very quickly when they tired of Alistair and I serving typical Ferelden stews every night.

"All right, then… a professional question for you."

"Oh? I've told you my best stories already. Some twice. I think if we linger here that blonde man wearing the unusual combination of armor and a mage's staff may actually combust from his anger."

"Noticed that, huh?"

"My dear, one does not succeed in my line of work without being observant. That is him, the someone you met?" I nodded. "Another Warden who is also a mage," he observed, looking sad. "That seems… fitting, for you. You need someone who can understand your life, share your secrets. That is good. Do you… love him?"

"Very much," I answered honestly.

"Good. And he you?" Zevran gave me a small smile when I nodded. "Ah, but how could he not?" He shook his head. "But, you had a question for me?"

"Yes… Should the Landsmeet not end… in my favor. How much? Things are quite different now than they were during the blight, the Wardens are very comfortable so money shouldn't be a problem."

He raised an eyebrow. "The years have changed you," Zevran mused. "You can't be serious. _You_ wish to hire the Crows to kill someone? Not do it yourself?"

"You'd be able to tell if I was lying, so I can't say I _like_ the idea," I told him. "I'm in charge of keeping more than fifty people alive now, though. I can't keep them at risk like this, with her running around. I don't want any of my Wardens tied to it, but I'm also under orders from the First Warden to deal with any problems like this permanently. Having someone outside the order take care of it seems to be the only way that won't come back at us."

"Your Wardens are very pragmatic," he mused. "I respect that. I take it you don't wish Alistair to discover this?"

I snorted. "I told him I'd kill the woman myself if the Landsmeet went against me. And my lieutenant Nathaniel has already offered to do the same. He is good, very good, but if he was to get caught…" I made a face, considering the possibility. "It would be very ugly for us. And if I did it…"

"They would know from miles away by the crashing noises alone," he finished. "Understood. Should you need my professional services…?" Zevran thought for a moment and shrugged. "I can't forget, I wouldn't be where I am had you not saved me from Taliesen. I would be happy if you would let me consider it… a favor to an old friend."

"Thank you," I told him. "I miss your friendship."

"Well, it is settled then! Good." We began walking back to the office. "Nathaniel. He is the dark haired man? Calculating look about him?"

"That's him. Best archer I've ever seen."

"Don't tell Leliana," he chuckled. "Have we met before? He seems somewhat familiar."

I giggled at that. "You never met him, he was in the Free Marches until right around when I moved to Amaranthine. You did help me kill his father, though."

He thought for a moment before it struck him. "Of course! He has the same nose, and the eye color is very distinctive." Zevran laughed then, shaking his head. "You made the son of Howe your second in command? How did this happen?" When I explained he roared with more laughter.

"You know, most women, they knit or garden. You collect assassins and make kings. Unusual hobbies."

"You don't know the half of it. The other Warden? He just joined us, we met in the deep roads, where the Grand Cleric sent him and five other templars to kill me. He came to see our cause was far more righteous."

"If only Loghain were here," Zevran said as we returned to the others. "You could have your entire collection of allies who once wanted you dead in a single room! We should form a club, perhaps get matching hats!"

Nathaniel looked at Zevran appraisingly. "Something tells me I want no part in wearing anything you have picked out," he said finally.

"You Fereldans are so finicky," Zevran replied. "Must everything be drab leather? At least your mages show some appreciation for color."

Arl Eamon sighed hearing that, and Alistair made a disapproving grunt when Loghain's name was mentioned. Everyone had relocated to sit by the fire. I joined Anders on a small sofa, automatically leaning against him. Zevran stopped on his way to sit, whispering something in Anders' ear that I didn't catch. He whispered a reply which Zevran nodded at before patting him on the shoulder.

"Believe me," was all I could hear Anders say to him before putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Right then," Zevran said, settling into a chair. "Our friend Alistair contacted me some time ago, asking me to look into this… situation. While I am no bard, my skills do overlap somewhat. I was able to find some fascinating details." He pulled a sheath of papers from an inside pocket of his doublet. "The… last time you were in Denerim there was some ugly business. An attack on both of you and the murder of the former Grand Cleric. Yes?" I nodded. "I have this," he said, setting one paper aside. "Showing the man hired to attack you, my dear Wardens." I glanced at it, it was a contract authorizing someone to act with the authority of a templar in dealing with 'problem apostates' staying at the palace.

"She left a _paper trail_?" Anders shook his head. "It boggles the mind."

"She feels she is acting in the right," Zevran replied. "She does not believe her actions need hiding. But there is more. The blood mage? I found him. The Grand Cleric's death was not a murder so much as it was a… phenomenal miscalculation. Blood magic, it can be used to prolong life, cure diseases otherwise untreatable by conventional healing?" I nodded in agreement. "Well, she should have hired someone better," Zevran concluded. "The mage, of course, has no interest in testifying to the Landsmeet, but I thought just knowing it could be dismissed would aid us."

"The hypocrite!" I snapped, kicking a side table.

"From what he told me she believed the Maker would overlook her actions since it enabled her to live on and continue fighting a greater evil," Zevran shrugged. "But yes, I'm inclined to agree with you."

He went on to produce sheaths of paperwork that contained information our spy sent her, linking the two. I winced seeing the detailed write-ups of my daily schedule, up to and including the times Anders and I had gone to bed, and when the spy believed we had actually gone to sleep. Complete with commentary on what he believed was happening in the time between. "Well, I'm feeling fairly violated," I muttered.

"As am I," Anders agreed. "And look, just twenty minutes on that day? Completely inaccurate. It's insulting!"

"Must you always provide… details?" Alistair muttered.

"I have a reputation to maintain," Anders said crisply.

I mentioned the spy, who had told us an elf working for the Crows spit on him. "You?" I asked Zevran.

"Of course," he said. "I should have run the man through, but didn't know if that would alert more people who could cause you trouble. I told Alistair about it."

I glanced over at the king. "I wrote to you," he said. "It left here the day before your spy arrived, though. Should be waiting for you at home."

Paperwork also listed the templars sent after us on our Orzammar trip, saying she would eliminate two problems at once. Ronan saw his name listed and made a face. "When all this is over can we just go kill some darkspawn or something?" he asked. "This seems far dirtier than being covered in their blood."

"Agreed," I said.

"Oh, we have not yet _begun_ to see filth!" Zevran laughed. "Ah, here it is, our best weapon. It actually has very little to do with the Wardens."

"Oh?" I asked, reaching for the small book he had produced.

"No, no… I think Alistair would prefer telling you about this one," Zevran chuckled, holding it out of reach. "Or we may make you guess."

"Just give it to her, Zev," Alistair said.

"You are no fun," he sighed, handing it over.

I opened to a marked page in what appeared to be a small journal, read it over and gasped. Anders, seeing my reaction, shifted to read at the same time. "Maker's breath," he muttered. "This is… "

"Bad," I said. "Very, very bad." I passed the diary to Nathaniel so he and Ronan could read it. Nathaniel made a disgusted noise, Ronan paled.

"No," Zevran said. "It is very, very _good_. We have here, in her own writing, something every noble in Ferelden will raise their fist at."

"You've seen this?" I asked Alistair. He nodded. "Anyone else?"

"No one outside this room," he said. "We'll spring it on her tomorrow."

"Good," I said, smiling.

We left not long after. "I want to stop in the tavern and see if I can get a hint of who's here and what they're talking about," I said. No one disagreed, so the four of us walked through the market district.

"My lady Margaret!" someone called from behind us once we'd reached the bar and ordered. I turned to see Bann Teagan grinning and stumbling over to us, pint glass in hand, amber liquid sloshing over the sides with every step.

"Teagan! How are you?"

"Never better," he said. "Horrible business, all this, though." He shook his head. "Glad to see you looking as lovely as ever, Maggie. You know you'll always be able to count on my support."

"What are people saying?" I asked him.

"Ah, you got me," he said, dropping the drunk act and lowering his voice. "Eamon has me here listening in. You've got West Hill, Highever, the Denerim Alienage, and Amaranthine City." I nodded, not surprised by most of those. "Oh, and, Rainesfere and Redcliff of course," he added. Since Eamon became Chancellor, and his son was ineligible to inherit property, Teagan was acting Arl of Redcliff as well as Bann of Rainesfere.

"That's good," I said. "Thank you. Anyone against us?"

"Waking Seas will most likely go with the Chantry, they always do, as will Southern Bannorn. I think Cerolic just likes being a contrary bastard. Not sure on Oswin, White River, River Dane, Gwaren, South Reach, Dragon's Peak or Denerim City."

"The ones on the fence," I asked him. "What are their feelings on the king?"

"Almost everyone is fond of Alistair," Teagan said, giving me a curious look. "They say he is more the son of Maric than Cailin ever was. Why?"

"Just… wondering," I said. "I should get going, this has been a long day, tomorrow won't be any better."


	35. I get to explain later, then?

"This ends now, one way or another," I said as we gathered over dinner in the empty Warden compound.

"What do you mean?" Nathaniel asked. "There's still a chance they could go against you. You know how fickle most nobles are. Doubtful, with the new evidence your… friend provided, but even still."

I shook my head. "If they do she's dead anyways." I told them about my arrangement with Zevran, and how Bann Esmerelle had _really_ died. "The Crows consider me untouchable. She hid who I was when she hired them, they were furious. Killing her was because she deceived them, but I think they still feel they owe me. It would have been done more obviously, but Zevran didn't want people to point fingers at me so he made it look like suicide."

"You want an outsider to handle this?" Nathaniel asked. "Not me?" He looked offended.

"I know you could do it, but _nothing_ can connect us to this. If she died we'd be the first ones accused. If comes to this, well, we'll all go somewhere nice and public while it happens so no one can even suspect anything," I said. "That's what Weisshaupt would prefer. While they might not think of the Crows… I know we can trust him. He said he would do it for free, as a favor to an old friend."

"You believe that?" Anders said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not," I said. "Zevran doesn't believe in favors, he was raised to think everything has a price. He's doing it for free because he thinks he owes me, and to make sure there isn't money flowing from us to him that would connect the Wardens to the Crows. No one heard our conversation, and I made sure not to tell Eamon or Alistair, only you."

"This feels dirty," Ronan said.

"I know," I told him. "I hate it. But consider it on my conscience, not yours. My duty is to protect the Wardens. I'm obligated to make sure she's not able to threaten us again. If it was just me I'd ignore her and deal with things as they happened, like we have been. Now, though… What if someone breaks into the Keep? There are ten other mages besides Anders and I who deserve safety in their own home."

"So why is he helping us?" Anders asked. "Why does he feel he owes you? Because of… what happened?"

I shook my head. "No, we talked about that, this goes further back. He made a point of reminding me I saved him from returning to the Crows in shame when they caught up to us before the Landsmeet. He feels he owes his position now to me. His words. To him…" I shrugged. "I think this merely settles any debt between us." I shrugged. Zevran would never have said that since he knew I didn't believe there _was_ a debt, but I had spent enough time with him to realize it ate away at his conscience. I reminded myself once again that his world was not my world, even though the two did intersect briefly. I don't think I would have survived in his, to be honest.

We split up, each heading to bed. "What did he say to you?" I asked Anders and I pulled on a nightshirt.

"You first," he said. I summarized our conversation for him. "Hm," Anders said finally. "How do you feel about everything?"

I thought for a moment. I hadn't actually decided what to feel about the discussion yet. "Good," I said finally. "Closure is always nice. Seeing him again, though?" I shrugged. "No spark, not anymore. It was a strange time, the blight. That might have brought us together but without it… nothing is really there to bind us. We're too different in how we see the world, I realize it now even though I didn't then. He would never be happy living how I do, and I'd never be happy living how he does. I'll always care about him, I know that. But it's like… I want to know he's happy and doing well, not that I want to be with him myself."

It seemed like Zevran wasn't entirely happy about seeing me again, or seeing me with someone else at least. He hadn't mentioned it, but the expression on his face when he realized I was with someone who shared both magic and being a Warden with me made that clear. When he asked if I loved Anders my heart broke a little for him. I had been briefly tempted to lie, but he would have known if I did. Zevran had always told me I'd make a horrible rogue, he said I wore my feelings on my face.

He had always placed me on a pedestal. Some of his comments about women in Antiva made me think it might be cultural in part; Ferelden was far more egalitarian as far as such things went. His stories had led me to believe women in Antiva were all but worshiped everywhere they went. It seemed more extreme now than it had been when we were together, though. When he talked about me it sounded almost like a recitation from one of Chancellor Eamon's biographies. Strange, from the man who once told me I was the worst cook in Thedas, and teased that he would send me back to the tower so I could take healing classes with the children.

I couldn't deny being relieved to find out he told me in writing because he didn't want to face me, not because he didn't think it was worth the effort of saying something in person. But after speaking to Zevran I found myself feeling bad for him. It was tempting to do something obnoxious and ill-mannered, or offer him some of my cooking, just to remind him of how imperfect I really was. Hopefully he would remember on his own over the next day when I said something stupid at the Landsmeet, which I almost certainly would if Nathaniel's precautions were any indication.

"That makes sense," Anders said. "I'll admit I'm a little jealous hearing you say that, but I guess not caring at all about someone you were with for so long would be kind of heartless."

I smiled. "You know, he basically said you seem perfect for me."

"Did he?" Anders seemed surprised. "Well, he just told me he hoped I appreciated how lucky I am. I let him know there was no chance of me forgetting that."

I curled up next to him under the blankets. "I don't know, I think I'm the lucky one."

"That sounds like the beginning of an argument. Let's just agree we're both lucky." Anders was nipping at the skin of my throat as he spoke, causing me to gasp.

"Landsmeet tomorrow," I reminded him.

"I know," he said, moving on to my earlobe.

"We should… ahhhh" he chuckled as I lost my train of thought, his hand sliding up my thigh. "…have to get up early," I muttered, not particularly caring anymore.

"True," Anders agreed, pulling my nightshirt over my head and tossing it aside.

"We'll look exhausted," I said, throwing one of my legs over his hip.

"All the better," he said into my neck. "This nightmare has kept you up worrying."

"…that could work." Our lips met, his hot tongue pushing into my mouth as fingers slid between my legs. I moved against him, groaning against his lips. When he slid first one, and then a second finger into me I had to break off the kiss, gasping for air.

Anders smiled at that, gently pushing me to my back. My back arched as the tip of his tongue brushed against a nipple, lightning burst from his fingertips to the other. Working his way down my body he paused repeatedly, nipping at the flesh over my ribs or sending more lightning dancing across my skin.

Fingers that knew exactly how to move against me left my legs shaking as he made his way down my body. With my heels drumming against his back I was already verging on incoherence by the time Anders pressed his mouth against me. If the things he could do with one hand were impressive, the things he could do with lips and tongue were utterly staggering. Any rational thought I had fled from my mind, all I could do was writhe below him, gasping his name and panting for breath. One hand clutched at the pillow below me, as if hoping that would keep me from simply flying into the air. The other wound through his hair, a silent plea not to stop.

Anders paused briefly, looking up at me when my back arched and I shrieked. He pulled himself up so we were face to face again, leaving his hand in place. I whimpered when he showed no indication of doing anything more than looking down at me while smiling in a way that would have made my knees weak under any circumstances, but was driving me mad at the moment. "Something you want?" he whispered.

"Anders, please!" I gasped out, trying to pull him down or myself up for a kiss and finding my arms still shaking.

He bent over, pressing his lips to mine briefly. "Please what?" he said into my ear. Anders chuckled, clearly enjoying tormenting me. "I don't know what you want unless you tell me," he said, punctuating his statement with a nip at my earlobe. His thumb twitched against me and I groaned.

"You!" I gasped. "Please, I want you." Long fingers sent another shudder through me and I clutched at his arms, my nails leaving angry marks in his skin. "Anders," I said, managing to find some of my voice. "I_ need _you. Inside me. Now. _Please_."

He smiled at that and kissed me again. Anders shifted his hand, and when I finally felt him sliding in and filling me I could have cried with relief. Any urge he might have had to tease me fell away as our hips moved together. Anders was groaning, his eyes meeting mine through heavy lids. Part of my mind was sure I was loud enough for the rest of the compound, the palace proper, and perhaps the whole of eastern Denerim to hear. Most of my mind didn't particularly care and realized I couldn't stop if I wanted to.

Anders pulled my hand between us, guiding my fingers to where our bodies met, wanting to make sure I finished when he did. His thrusts became faster and sharper and my hips bucked against him. My free hand was tangled in his hair, keeping it back from his face so I could see his eyes. With a final gasp my back arched sharply before I collapsed back into the bedding. Seconds later Anders issued a wordless cry before collapsing onto me.

After laying in silence while we caught our breath and held onto one another Anders propped himself up on one elbow, clearing his throat and giving me a crooked grin. I looked up at him and burst into laughter. "Oops."

"Indeed," he agreed, rolling off me and sitting up so he could brush the ice from his hair and onto the floor. "Sometimes I impress even myself," he said, grinning from ear to ear. I retrieved my nightdress from across the room, laughing as I walked back to bed. "What?" he asked.

I lifted up the pillow that had been under me, the one his hand was braced on, displaying the silhouette of his handprint, framed by a large burnt spot. "Well, you're pretty impressive, too," he said, looking over the casualty to misfired magic. "At least it wasn't my other hand."

"Actually," I said, turning and raising the hem of my nightdress, "it was both." A large but not severe burn mark covered much of my hip.

"Andraste's knickerweasels," he muttered, casting a healing spell. "Sorry about that."

"I've been injured worse playing cards," I laughed, climbing into bed and turning the pillow over to the unburnt side. Curling up on my side I pressed myself against his back and wrapped an arm around his waist, feeling his chest rise and fall as he drifted off to sleep.

Someone knocking on the door woke us the next morning. I pulled the blankets over my head and pretended not to hear them. "Fine," Anders grumbled, swinging his legs out of bed. "I'll get it."

I could hear him stumbling around, pulling on a pair of baggy linen pants before opening the door. "Nathaniel said to wake you," came a voice. Ronan, it had to be. "What happened to your arms?" I peeked out from under the blankets and saw there was a line of four small cuts on Anders' bicep, each shaped like a half moon. I had no doubt they would line perfectly to my fingernails if I wanted to get up and check.

"What? Oh… Eh, Maggie's nails are getting long," Anders said in a matter-of-fact tone. I sensed a brief flare of magic as he healed himself. I groaned. He was completely incapable of filtering his conversation so soon after getting up.

"Huh?"

Anders laughed. "Ohhhh…. That's right, you were stuck in the Chantry. See, when a man and a woman love each other, or really like each other, or maybe just think the other is attractive or maybe they've just had a lot to drink—"

"Anders!" I snapped from under the blankets. "Ronan does not need you explaining _that_ to him now."

He chuckled. "I get to explain later, then?"

"I wasn't _born_ in the Chantry," Ronan muttered.

"And lucky for you, you won't have to die there either!" Anders said cheerfully. "We have far more fun."

"Apparently," he said. "The walls aren't very thick here."

Maker's breath. "Can this conversation end now?" I called from under the blankets. "I'd like to get dressed and face this horrible, horrible day." I could hear Ronan chuckle as he walked away. I climbed out from under the blankets and slipped into my armor quickly, adding weapons before walking out of the room.

"What is the plan?" Nathaniel asked me as Anders and I joined him and Ronan for breakfast. Although the compound was lacking a staff of its own now, Alistair had someone send something over from the palace for us.

"Zevran's meeting us here," I said. "He was in charge of the investigation for Alistair, we go over with him." I paged through the journal while we ate, careful not to get anything on it.

"Is that wise?" Nathaniel asked. "Given your former relationship couldn't he be accused of bias?"

I shrugged. "Don't ask me, it was all done before we even got here. I agree, but I have to think Eamon knows what he's doing. That's his job, anyways. Zevran is the head of special investigations for the crown."

"In public," Nathaniel snorted. "Assassins working for the Crown." He shook his head.

"I'd be surprised if there haven't always been assassins working for the king," Anders said. "It is politics, after all."

"True," Nathaniel said. "I hate politics."

"Join the club," I muttered, making a face at a particularly disgusting passage in the journal.

"Anything good?" Anders asked.

"It's old. She's been keeping it for six, seven years." I pointed out the passage complaining about my saving the Circle during the blight. She had hoped to cull the mage population with the Right of Annulment. 'A chance to get rid of some of those disgusting animals wasted,' it said. A large chunk focused on her annoyance at my continued evasion of justice during the blight. The actual ending of the blight rated just a half-page, almost entirely about her belief that Loghain would have been able to end it on his own without me, and lived to tell of it, while several were devoted to her annoyance at Alistair's forcing the Circle to allow mages to retain ties to their families, saying it encouraged the belief that we were people.

I passed the book to Ronan when I hit the page where she sent him to the Deep Roads. "Fool," he muttered. "She thought she knew everything. Handed us your phylacteries and sent us off, like it was the easiest thing in the world."

I dropped my fork. "You had… our phylacteries? Both of them?"

"Of course," Ronan said. We both looked at him expectantly, he didn't seem to realize we were waiting for him to continue.

Anders and I stared at him. I can only imagine the look on our faces. "_What?" _we said in unison.

"What?" he asked. "I was a templar, of _course_ I had them." he shrugged, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "I tossed them into some lava before we got to the city. It wasn't as though I would have been able to return them to the storage area in Denerim, after all."

My brain screeched to a halt. I tried to speak and found a dumb muttering was the only thing I could manage, jaw hanging open foolishly. "…lava?" I managed after a moment.

Anders, apparently suffering from the same unusual mental breakdown I was, began giggling, actually giggling. Jumping to his feet with a cry of joy, he pulled me up and lifted me off the ground. I threw my head back, shrieking incoherently as he tossed me in the air. We were both laughing hysterically as I landed on the ground, hands linked we switched to jumping up and down. Embracing me a final time, he let go and ran around the table, tackling Ronan in a hug. I joined a moment later. "Thank you!" we both repeated, over and over before releasing the startled former-templar and falling to the ground, laughing more as we lay on our backs.

"So is this where you both run off, never to be seen again?" Nathaniel asked, looking down at us lying on the floor.

"What?" I said, once I could speak. "Of course not. Why would I go anywhere?"

"Don't be absurd," Anders added. "I _want_ to be a Warden. I never wanted to be in the Circle."

"Then why do you care?" he asked as we stood up, still grinning like fools.

"Maker's breath, Nathaniel," I said. "A chain that's been attached to me since I was _four_ was just destroyed. How could I not be thrilled?"

"If I'd known you would be this happy I would have said something sooner," Ronan said. "Perhaps in writing, though. Please don't hug me again, that was scary. You're both… sparking."

I looked at my hands and giggled. "I am not. I'm frozen. _He's_ sparking."

Anders shook his hands, dispelling the remains of magic. "Sorry about that," he said. "Kind of gets away from you sometimes, that's why the circle is so big on telling mages to keep their emotions under strict control." He sighed and stretched his arms up over his head. "I'll have to really work at not grinning like a fool through this entire day."

"Same here," I admitted. "This is almost as good as the day Duncan took me from the tower."

Anders responded to that by picking me up and swinging me around the room once more.

"Goodness," called a voice from the hall. "We're certainly in high spirits today."

"Morning, Zevran," I called as Anders set me down. "We just got some good news."

"So it seems," he said. Nathaniel filled him in on the morning's discovery while we gathered our things. We walked to the Landsmeet chamber in the palace quickly, finding most had already arrived. I gave my name to the liveried man at the door and braced myself for the inevitable, remembering my last visit. Sure enough, he boomed my name and titles across the room. Most people turned to look as we entered.

Arl Bryland's son was the first to corner us. Wait, no… Arl Bryland. Leonas Bryland had all but retired, his son Bryce was now acting Arl. Despite the unfortunately alliterative name, he seemed a decent man. "Nathaniel!" he boomed from across the room, jogging over to us. "Look at you! You look fantastic! Being a Warden must agree with you." Nathaniel took his arm in greeting, muttering a confused hello as he introduced the rest of our group. "Commander it is good to see you as well. I have no idea what happened, but… well, my wife will _kill_ me if I side against the Wardens. So, you have South Reach's vote. And Gwaren." I didn't even realize he was married.

"Gwaren?" I stared at him blankly.

He met me with an equally blank look, before recognition dawned. "That's right! We invited you, but you seneschal had said you just left for Orzammar!"

"I got back just before we left for Denerim," I said. "And it was… chaotic. I was injured, so I'm not up to date on everything."

He chuckled. "Well, in addition to South Reach I'm now Teyrn of Gwaren," he said. I had thought Anora was still Teryna of Gwaren. But if he was…

"Oh!" I said, suddenly realizing what had happened. "I didn't know! Congratulations!"

"Thank you," he said. "Anora sends her regards, she's looking forward to her trip to Amaranthine next month. She couldn't make it here for, um… health reasons."

"Is she all right?" Anders asked. "I'm a very good healer. Her father was a Warden, I'd be happy to check in on her as a favor to the family."

"How awful that she should fall ill so soon after your wedding!" I added.

"Oh no no no, nothing like that," he said. "She's absolutely fine. Never better, in fact. You'll see for yourself next month." With that he smiled cryptically and excused himself to speak with Bann Sighard, leaving me confused and Nathaniel snickering.

"Care to fill me in?" I asked him.

"You don't know?" he said. "Come on, Maggie. Rushed wedding, she's suddenly not appearing in public other than a trip to see a bunch of warriors and mages who wouldn't know proper manners if their lives depended on it, he's as happy as can be…" He sighed when I didn't have an answer. "Right, think about it. Why do normal people get married?"

"Because they're in love?"

"Maker's breath," he muttered. "It's like talking to a child sometimes. How can someone with your job be so naive? Why else? Nobility in particular?"

"Well, so their children will be legiti- Oh!"

"_There_ we go," he chuckled. "Took you a bit."

"Wow," I muttered. "Good for them! I'm glad I bought a whole crate of those stuffed griffons, I'll give her one for the baby." I snickered suddenly, clapping a hand over my mouth.

"What?"

Lowering my voice so it couldn't be heard beyond our circle I explained my amusement. "Eamon… he thought she was barren. I found letters he sent to Cailin suggesting he annul the marriage to find a wife that could produce an heir. I guess it was our King who was… firing an empty bow."

"Firing an empty bow…" Anders laughed. "That's clever."

"I'll have to remember that one," Zevran mused. He excused himself to stand near the front of the room, with the other people representing the Crown's case of treason, making sure to bring the journal with him.

"How do these things normally work?" Ronan asked.

"I anticipate a good deal of yelling," Nathaniel said. A few people nodded to us in greeting.

"See, they like me," I said. "Why don't the nobles in Amaranthine like me? Nearly everyone here seems to."

"Because you're equal to everyone here," Anders said. "The ones back home answer to you. I think they can tolerate being your peer, but not your inferior." It was as good a theory as any I'd come up with.

Glancing around the room I spotted Ser Cauthrien among the guards. Excusing myself, I went over to her, letting her know about the statue of Loghain I'd had put up and inviting her to join us at the dedication. She seemed surprised by the invitation, and accepted it gratefully.

"I have to admit," she said, "I'm surprised you're doing something so public in his memory."

"To the Wardens he will always be remembered as the man who killed the archdemon and ended fifth blight. For us…" I shrugged, "I really can't explain just how much that means among our order. Suffice to say that every Warden in Thedas will know his name and honor his sacrifice for centuries to come. As for me personally, I'm glad we were able to put our… differences behind us. I'm grateful I had a chance to know him and fight beside him. He was a remarkable man."

"That he was," she agreed. I excused myself, thinking the expression on her face had confirmed a suspicion I'd long held about just how close Loghain had been with his second in command. She had been exceptionally rude to me when we first met, but given the circumstances I couldn't blame her. We were on opposite sides of a civil war at the time, after all. Since then I found myself more impressed with her every time we met, and occasionally toyed with the idea of inviting her to join our ranks. Maybe I would mention something when she came to Amaranthine. She looked to be about my age, so still young enough for the Joining. "I like her," I said when I returned to our group.

"Cauthrien?" Nathaniel said, sounding surprised. "She's practically carved out of granite. I don't think I've ever seen her smile."

"From you that's quite the critique," Anders said, grinning at Nathaniel.

"She's smiling now," I pointed out. "I invited her to the statue thing. I don't think she was expecting that."

"Of course she wasn't," Nathaniel said. "She's a knight, not a noble. Most people wouldn't invite her."

I shook my head at that and waited for the Landsmeet to begin.

* * *

_A/N: I know. I'm a bad, bad person. Cliffhanger unresolved (for now), but I bring offerings of smut in exchange. Thanks to Arsinoe de Blassenville who inspired me to include the Anora twist._


	36. We went for high tea and cake, obviously

After what seemed like several hours Alistair arrived and the Landsmeet could begin. The yelling Nathaniel had predicted started almost as soon as he sat down. He had to repeat himself twice and demand silence before the guards could hear him calling for the Grand Cleric. As was typical of Landsmeets, everyone shouted at once and chaos prevailed. Policy in Ferelden was made by screaming over everyone who disagreed. Alistair had been attempting to institute some sort of formal system but so far there was little success. This was to be one of his experiments in creating something that was more orderly than a mob fighting over the last loaf of bread.

First Ronan was called forward to present his version of events. He seemed nervous by the attention of the room on him at first. He soon warmed up and graphically describe the first assault by the darkspawn his group encountered and their meeting with the spiders of the deep roads. He told them he honestly had no desire to act as an assassin, or to fight a group of Wardens, but ended up finding us only because his entire group had died. "The Commander must possess the mercy of Andraste herself," he said when he told them about our allowing him to join us. _Ham_, I thought to myself. I'm fairly sure I saw him wink at us.

"You expect us to believe she invited you along after telling her you were there to kill her?" Bann Ceorlic asked.

Zevran, who had been directing the questioning, snorted. "Having known the Commander for many years, I would say yes, that is something she would do. This is the woman who recruited Loghain after he chased her from one end of Ferelden to the other."

"If this is true, the price of her forgiveness seems high indeed," Bann Alfstanna said. "Since you're now one of her Wardens."

"What?" Ronan asked, sounding shocked. "No, she didn't make me join. She let me know I could, if I wanted, and then tried to discourage me. It is… not an easy life. This was _my_ choice. I saw enough of their work to see the importance of it before joining. What I've seen since…" he shook his head, and I silently prayed he remembered some things couldn't be told, even if it helped us. "Let me just say I've yet to regret my decision." I sighed with relief.

Anders had to give his version of events next. As expected, it was fairly dramatic. He gestured wildly to describe what happened, smiling, telling jokes, and making eye contact with nearly everyone in the room at least once, and flirting with several of the noblewomen. By the end of it half the crowd was all but eating from his hand, and the Grand Cleric looked angry enough to spit concentrated poison.

Finally it was my turn. I told how I had been awake on watch when we heard fighting and woke the others, being assaulted by the spiders before we could reach them. I told them how we came across the bodies of two templars and displayed the medallions I'd taken from them, which Ronan had returned to me before court. "Would these bodies still be there?" someone called. I couldn't see who.

"No, we offered a prayer to the Maker for them and set them in a nearby lava stream to burn. We were all uncomfortable with simply leaving them to rot and get eaten by the darkspawn."

"Evidence of their fight would remain, though?"

"I'm sure it would," I agreed. "The darkspawn don't _clean_ the Deep Roads after all."

"Could you take someone to it, provide some _proof_ for this story?"

I tried to pick out who it was but they seemed to be moving, staying behind the crowd. Nathaniel, seeing the same thing, had turned around to watch them. From his vantage point on the floor they couldn't hide. "I could provide maps and mark the location, but no, I will not take someone to it. The Deep Roads are the most dangerous place in Thedas. I don't risk the lives of those under my command to settle someone's curiosity. You would find a cave filled with the moldering corpses of spiders, nothing more."

They seemed to have nothing else to say after that. I went on to talk about our defensive strategy in Kobaliman Thaig. I told them how Ronan had found us, of course, but spent far more time detailing the fight. I made a point of talking about how Anders and I used area spells to cull their numbers before they reached us, since I thought it would be nice that everyone get a reminder that magic could actually be used for something besides lighting Chantry fires. I also made sure to mention about how impressed I was by Ronan's work against the emissaries, and how he had been cautious not to use his skills within range of myself and Anders since I enjoyed rubbing the fact that we had lured a templar away in the Grand Cleric's face. It was all completely unnecessary, but I figured I should take advantage of any chance I had to brag about the Wardens prowess. If I could have managed an inspiring ballad about our travels I would have done so without a second thought. Fortunately for everyone there I had about as much skill at writing songs as I did at singing them. That is to say, very little. "So," I said, "once we concluded our business with the Legion of the Dead we headed back to Orzammar, collected the recruits we had from there, and returned to the surface."

"What was this business?" the same voice asked. I was becoming quite sure they weren't _really_ a noble, perhaps a Chantry plant. Or a random lunatic. Those were always exciting.

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes at that. "I'm a Grey Warden, and the Legion of the Dead is on the front lines of the darkspawn's underground lairs. We went for high tea and cake, obviously." It occurred to me that, in this case, scaring people might be a good idea. "But… if you must know," I shrugged. "We have reason to believe the intelligent darkspawn are back. There are reports of them as far west as the Deep Roads below what would roughly be River Dane on the surface, and I have seen them myself in the Dragon's Peak Bannorn and the deep roads below Amaranthine, with _many_ reports of surface sightings. Of course, they are leagues more dangerous than the average darkspawn." Nathaniel nodded grimly when I said that, glancing around at everyone in the room. The collective nobles seemed to be gripped by fear, staring at me as if I would provide some solution. "Unfortunate that I'm _here_ instead of protecting Ferelden from them, isn't it?" I said darkly.

"Very good," Zevran whispered, smiling at me. "Perhaps Leliana's bard training paid off after all."

"It did," I agreed. "But that's the truth." He made a face at that.

"You see, this is why I don't want to be a Warden. You can never simply reassure people."

Once Alistair had demanded silence I described the collapsed entrance of the Deep Roads, mentioning the remains of bombs we had found and the bodies of the templars who set them off. Finally, I was dismissed and everyone began talking over each other once again.

I returned to the other Wardens to watch Zevran present the evidence he had collected after the Grand Cleric was taken into custody, allowing people to come up and inspect it for themselves. Well, allow might be a stretch. Nobles being nobles, they simply grabbed things from his hands. He had also made a point of bringing several more innocent documents, records of tithes and marriages, so the handwriting could be compared. "Your Grace," he said, holding up the journal. "Can you read the passage I have marked?"

"I will not," she snapped. "This is a farce. You, _Ser Arainai, _are nothing more than a hired blade and that maleficar has you all bewitched! Why does no one see her for what she is? Magic exists to serve man, _never_ rule over him, and yet you all call that witch Commander without a second thought! She will bring damnation on us all!"

"Suit yourself," he said. "I'm more than happy to read it for you." He opened the book, clearly enjoying the attention. Alistair and I shared a glance and each rolled our eyes. "In an entry dated two weeks before your arrest you say 'I'm worried by the king's constant assistance to these mages. Granting the Circle new freedoms was bad enough, but to protect that maleficar whore under the banner of treason? I fear she may have him in thrall, there is no other excuse for his behavior. If I cannot have the templars take care of her soon I may need to look into taking steps to remove Maric's bastard from the equation. It breaks my heart to think of ordering someone to end the line of Calenhad, but he will bring the wrath of the Maker upon us all if something isn't done. I don't understand why the Divine does not see this as clearly as I do.'"

For once, you could hear a pin drop in the chamber as Zevran closed the book, setting it aside. Then it seemed like the wrath of the Maker _had_ fallen upon us as every single person in the room began screaming at once. The sound shook the walls, I couldn't even understand what they were saying. "I guess that worked," Anders said. "_Try_ to kill us, that's just fine. Obliquely reference killing the king? Oh no."

"Well, he _is_ the king," I pointed out. "No one wants another civil war, not this soon. We're just a couple of mages."

"True," Anders said. I glanced over at the Grand Cleric. She was red faced and gesturing. Nathaniel, apparently seeing the same thing, shouted something before pushing me to the floor. Anarchy had been threatening to erupt, that was all the encouragement it needed. A crossbow bolt sailed over me, straight through the space I had been standing in and embedding itself in a pillar not far from where we were. Rolling to my back I looked for the attacker, quickly casting a force field around him.

"That's him," Nathaniel said. "The one with all the questions."

"Look for others," I barked out. "Take them alive." I bolted over to the dais, standing in front of Alistair. He wasn't wearing armor, anyone targeting him would have to go through me. Ser Cauthrien ran over, standing near me.

"Protect the king," she hollered at the guards. A man came at me with a dagger, I cast another force field quickly. I could see Anders kneeling down, healing Ronan from a bolt wound, Nathaniel standing over them with daggers in each hand.

"Smite them! Do it now!" The Grand Cleric was shouting. I raised a hand towards her and grinned as she shook her head, backing away.

I laughed as she was encased in ice. "I should be ashamed of how much I enjoyed that," I said to myself.

"I can't say that I blame you," Cauthrien said, deflecting a blow from another man who came at us. I locked him into another force field and looked around. That seemed to be the last of them.

I turned to Alistair, making sure he was all right. He was standing, sword in hand, barking orders at guards who were standing close to the men Anders and I had trapped, waiting for the spell to wear off so they could be taken into custody. "You know, Mags, since you were the _target_ perhaps planting yourself so close to the king wasn't the best plan of action?"

"Ohhhh…" I muttered. "I didn't even think about that."

He laughed. "I figured that out. I appreciate the sentiment... Unnecessary as it was. I _am_ perfectly capable of defending myself, you know."

"Sorry," I said again. I began to walk through the room, making sure no unfamiliar faces were left in the crowd. "Anders, check everyone for injuries," I called out.

"Already on it," he replied. I looked towards the sound of his voice and saw him healing Bann Alfstanna, who had been hit by a careless swing of someone's blade. Hopefully not one of ours. Nathaniel was standing at the ready, aiming an arrow at the Grand Cleric. Ronan was watching two men trapped in spells close together. "Darkspawn are less annoying," I muttered, returning to stand near Alistair.

He snorted as he sat back down. "I noticed something."

"I'd hope so," I said. "There was quite a lot to notice."

"Oh ha ha ha," he muttered. "I noticed that, while those poor bastards," Alistair gestured to the six men being dragged away by the guards, "got a nice painless force field." I chuckled, realizing what he meant.

"So I'm petty," I said. "Can you blame me?"

"Will she... um… defrost soon?"

"Any time now," I told him. Alistair gestured to a handful of guards. I returned to the other Wardens, sighing with annoyance. We were all looking at the now-unfrozen priest. She was ranting and pointing a finger at me, unsurprisingly calling for my immediate execution by the templars in the room. They looked at each other and shrugged, ignoring her.

"Enough!" Alistair bellowed. I jumped back. He was rarely angry, but when it happened it was a terrifying thing. "I wonder if I should even bother asking if you deny the charges." He looked at the assembled crowd. "I'm assuming the case has been made to everyone's satisfaction?" When no one commented he waved a hand and the guards removed the Grand Cleric.

"Politics is exciting," Anders said as we watched the shocked nobility file out of the room.

"Too exciting for me," I said, sitting on the floor against a wall. "At least you _know_ the darkspawn want to kill you." I looked around the room. "Do you think this happens in other countries?"

"It never happened the Free Marches," Nathaniel provided. "When they found out our Landsmeet allowed duels while in session everyone there seemed fairly horrified." He shrugged, raising a hand to the chaos. "_This_ would be an excellent example of why everyone else in Thedas calls us barbarians." I suppose he had a point.

"How did those people even get _in_?" Anders asked. "We had to give your name."

"Good question," I said before calling Zevran over. Anders repeated his question. Zevran's face darkened and he spun on his heel without a word, quickly going over to the guards. I watched him speak to each of them briefly. I shouldn't have been surprised when, after speaking to each, he whipped out a dagger and stabbed one, walking away before the body even hit the floor.

"Ouch," Anders muttered.

"I suppose I should have expected that," I said.

Anders sat next to me and shook his head but didn't comment. Nathaniel and Ronan joined us a moment later. "What next?" Nathaniel asked me.

"We should see if they need anything from us now. Otherwise…" I shrugged. "I'm anxious to get to work and don't like being away while Rose is out near that mine. Leave Denerim tomorrow at first light?"

"Good," Nathaniel said. "I've had enough of this city."

"Do you think this will be the end of it?" Ronan asked me.

"I hope so. Mostly. I mean, I'm sure she'll have supporters we'll be dealing with for a bit. And there may be some backlash, but who knows." I shrugged. "Last time something big happened and I expected to get blamed people almost rioted in my favor. I don't understand this country at all sometimes."

Once it seemed obvious no one needed us we returned to the compound for lunch. Nathaniel and Anders disappeared into the city to shop after, leaving Ronan and I. "What will you do now?" he asked. "I mean, with your phylactery gone?" He was sitting at a small table, sharpening his sword while I lounged on a sofa across the room from him, debating between reading a book and taking a nap.

"Go slobbering mad, run through the streets in rags and enthrall anyone who crosses my path, I suppose. Maybe turn to cannibalism. Haven't decided on that bit yet, since it might require that I cook."

"Very funny," he said.

"Who's joking?" I said, turning to stare at him intently while wiggling my fingers in the air. "_You will get me a glass of ale_."

"You do know jokes like that are _exactly_ why people are afraid of mages," he said, shaking his head.

"Maybe I just wanted a glass of ale," I laughed. "Why would I do anything? That's not the point. I'd say I'll sleep a little easier, but, well, you're a Warden, you know that's not likely to happen."

"So why do you care?" he said, walking to the keg in the corner. "Oh, and if you get a glass so do I."

"It's there for everyone," I told him. He handed me a glass before sitting down again with his own. "Wow… I can't believe that worked. The one time I tried it on Anders he threatened to gag me with his dirty socks."

"That's disgusting."

"I know. I think he's been spending far too much time with Oghren."

"Speaking of Oghren… I don't understand him. I've talked to him a bit. He's showing me the Dwarven fighting styles and I'm going to teach him some of the templar skills. Granted, it wasn't much of a conversation since we were training at the time, but it was enough to see he _isn't_ a stupid man. But…"

"At the rate he's going the drink will kill him long before the taint?"

"Well… yes. Why do you put up with it? The man's a good fighter, sure, but he could be so much more if he cut back. He was all but brilliant in the Deep Roads, when he was sober. Most of the time he can only fight if you aim him in the right direction first, though." I got up to refill our glasses and sat back down.

"This goes no further than this room," I warned. He nodded. "I met Oghren… wow, over five years ago. At the time he was the joke of Orzammar. He'd been forbidden to carry weapons in the city which, for Warrior caste, is _huge_. But, before that, he was one of the most promising fighters of his generation. His wife, not Felsi, but his first wife… she was some kind of genius. Smith caste, invented some… thing, I don't know what, I've got no idea how smithing works. It was a big deal, though. They made her a paragon, which best I can explain, is kind of like if every couple centuries the Chantry found someone who did something amazing and declared them Andraste reborn."

"So, what happened?" Ronan asked, refilling our drinks. "It sounds like he had a charmed life."

"She went nuts," I said simply. "Took the whole family, everyone _but_ him, and went into the Deep Roads looking for the secret to make golems. That's when he started drinking. She fed them to the darkspawn, let the women get turned into broodmothers- even her lover." Ronan's eyebrows shot up at that. "Turns out the secret to golems is a living soul and a lot of agony. We found her…" I closed my eyes, not wanting to remember that day. "She fought us, even knowing what it took to make them. I wouldn't give in and let her have the anvil, and Oghren stood with us. I tried so hard to finish her before he could. I thought if I killed her, he could hate me for it. I barely knew him, and tons of people hate me anyways, so that was fine. It was a tough fight, she called on a couple dozen golems to help her. A few of them came after me and I got pushed away from her. He reached her before I could. I watched him behead her just as the last golem went down."

"Merciful Andraste," Ronan gasped, looking horrified. "_That's_ how he ended up leaving Orzammar and fighting the blight? I read it was because he was one of their most renowned warriors who had pledged himself to eliminating the darkspawn after they killed his family."

"Yeah, that's about it," I agreed. "Eamon has a way of… editing the truth. I mean, that's all true, technically. Just leaves a bunch out. Couldn't very well say a drunk whose wife left him for another woman and fed their entire extended family to darkspawn while hunting for a magic anvil fought the archdemon, you know?"

"No, I suppose not. Next you'll tell me you weren't the top-ranking mage in your class specifically recruited to the Wardens for your combat skills." I laughed and went back to the keg in the corner, briefly wondering if I could drag it over to where we were sitting.

"No, that's all true. I mean, I also helped my blood mage best friend destroy his phylactery so he could escape with the Chantry initiate he was sleeping with at the time. But, you know, that's why Duncan was there in the first place."

"Edited truth," he laughed. "I suppose if I ever do anything impressive enough to merit an official biography it'll say I was on a research expedition in the Deep Roads."

"Nah, I'd totally say you went after a group of templars who went into the Deep Roads by Circle tower. Sounds much better."

"But we all went in at once," he said.

"Yes, but were you first in line?"

"Not always," Ronan said. I grinned, raising my glass. "Anyways, Oghren. So… I mean, part of me thinks I should encourage him to drink less, or something. But how do you help someone cope with _that_? Since I don't know, and I wonder if the booze is the only thing keeping him sane. Maker knows I wouldn't be."

"You blame yourself," he said. It wasn't a question

"Not as much as I blame her, but yeah, in part I do. If I'd been faster, and he hadn't been forced to kill his own wife..." I shrugged. "I'm in charge, though. It's my job to take responsibility."

"You weren't Commander then, though. From what I know, you weren't even the senior Warden, the king was."

I snorted. "Back then Alistair couldn't lead us to lunch even if he had a map, a torch, and a whole team of Dalish guides. He had me in charge of everyone before I even went through the Joining."

"And you made this man _king_?"

"Well, he got _better. _You were a templar, I know you've studied history. The only decent monarchs we've had in the last several hundred years were Maric and the Rebel Queen, and that's because they had to suffer and fight for everything and never lived as nobles."

"So… you thought he would make a good king because he had a lousy childhood? That's not exactly sound reasoning."

"Hey, it worked," I said. "Three years later elves have more rights, we're on great terms with Orzammar, the Dalish have a permanent encampment in the south, families can at least maintain ties with their children if they go to the tower, and the people adore him."

He started laughing then. I suspected Ronan wasn't used to drinking much, if at all. "Can I ask you something," he finally said.

"Sure. I might not answer, but ask."

"You and the king… did you ever…?"

"Nope, never," I said. "I was fresh from the tower and he was only six months out of the Chantry, we were far too terrified of each other for anything like that. Once we got over that both of us knew the other just wasn't our type."

"Now that," he laughed, grabbing my not-quite-empty glass for a refill "is a dirty lie. He and Anders look like they could be brothers!"

"They don't look _that_ much alike," I protested. "And there's more to being someone's type than how you look."

"No, they look alike. Seeing them next to each other is bizarre. Nobles were commenting on it today." While I admit there were similarities, particularly their noses, I didn't think it was _that_ close. "Did you at least meet Anders first?"

"Sort of. Technically?" I laughed. "We met, very briefly, a couple years before the blight. We never spoke, but I saw him in the hall and thought he was flirting with me while I got yelled at by the Knight-Commander, so I winked at him."

"You mages have it so easy," he said. "You've got no idea. _And_ I'm like six years out of practice. I suspect the things I said as a teenager wouldn't go over quite as well now."

"No, I understand. I didn't leave the tower yesterday, you know. If you need advice on talking to girls ask Anders: trust me, he's _very_ good. I'm stubborn as a mule and still didn't stand a chance. Just don't let him give you… other advice. He forgets most people aren't as open as mages when it comes to discussing things like that."

"So I've noticed," Ronan said dryly.

I changed the subject back quickly. "Anyways, yeah, I technically met Anders first. Didn't meet Alistair until I became a Warden at the start of the blight."

"Still, they look _so much_ alike."

I groaned. "Stop it! What are you trying to do? Make it so I see Alistair every time I look at Anders? Do you _want_ your commanding officer to go crazy?"

He laughed at me, spilling half his drink. "Sorry, I'll drop the subject. I already knew that would be the answer since Alistair told us you used to be involved with Zevran. I just wanted to tease you about it. Consider it revenge for not letting me know our visitor in splintmail was the king." He shook his head. "I still can't believe he tells us to use his first name!"

"All right, I suppose I deserve that," I admitted. "Good job, by the way."

He raised his glass to that. "Do Zevran and Anders shop at the same places or something? Is there a checklist you go by? Long blonde hair, earring, rings on half his fingers, and wears more than a dozen colors at once?"

"Nah… not so much a checklist as it is an informal guideline," I said, giggling.

He shook his head. "You never did explain the phylactery thing. Why do either of you care?"

"It's… ugh. It's a question better asked about seven drinks ago," I said. "But I'll try. It's like… one more way they remind us we're less than people. No one else in Thedas can be tracked anywhere at any time, just mages. None of us _asked_ for this, but we're treated like criminals just for being born. It's like… the big horrible _symbol_ for everything wrong with how we're treated."

"Maker's breath," came a voice from the doorway. "Leave them alone for a few hours and they get drunk to discuss the state of mage treatment in Ferelden. I really wish I could be surprised."

"Hi Nathaniel," I called. "Were you buying Sigrun a present?" He made a face at me, but Anders grinned and nodded from over his shoulder.

"I guess this answers Alistair's question," Anders said.

"What?"

Anders laughed. "He wanted you to say a few words, a small crowd is milling around outside."

"Hey, why not," I shrugged. "I don't think they ever really listen when I talk anyways. I could go out and repeat 'archdemon' a few dozen times, everyone would cheer, and we could have dinner. Or I could cry. I might be able to work up a few tears, just get Alistair in here to tell stories about my dog. If I mumble and they only understand 'chantry' and 'mage' I don't think anyone would realize I don't have a whole speech prepared. Oh, and darkspawn. Can't forget that."

"Let's _not_ do that," Nathaniel said. "Also, the people who recognized us were all very impressed that, after being hit with a crossbow bolt, your first reaction was to throw yourself between the attackers and the king while screaming 'You'll have to kill me before I let you hurt the heir of Calenhad!'" Ronan and I both stared at them for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Everyone seemed to hear it from someone that works in Teagan's estate. Or from someone who heard it from someone that works there," Anders added. "We should buy him a really nice birthday present."

"I'd never say something like that," I muttered. "Alistair would _kill _me if I called him that. And isn't it a bit wordy to shout in the middle of a fight? I mean, I usually go for 'die you bastards' or something. And I didn't get hit by _anything_. In fact," I said, pointing at Nathaniel, "you're the one who saved me from the crossbow bolt."

Anders grinned at that, saying "like I said, _excellent_ birthday gift for Teagan."

* * *

_ Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!_


	37. My four least favorite words

"I know," I said. "I'll go out and just shout 'Grey Wardens Forever!'"

"No," Nathaniel said.

"Huzzah for Ferelden!"

"No."

"Mages rule?"

"No. Are you even trying?"

"Can I reuse an old speech?"

"Better, but still no."

"Can I dance? I think I can do a reasonable copy of Anders' spicy shimmy. It's actually not particularly spicy."

"What? Maker, no," Nathaniel snapped. He turned to Anders. "Can't you do something to sober her up?" I snorted with laughter. I knew that would get a rise out of him.

"I _did_," Anders snapped. "She lost a _lot_ of blood recently. It might be another week before she's… normal. Normal for her, at least." He glanced at me and grinned when I made a face at that. "Or, Maggie's trying to see how long it will take you to realize this is all a joke to her."

"I'm _sitting right here_," I told them. Sometimes I really did wonder if he could read my mind. "But maybe I was having a little fun…" I shrugged. "It's pouring rain now anyways, no one is left out there." No one could argue with that. "Just as well. You ever think _gloating_ might not be the best plan of action?"

"It's not gloating," Anders said. "It's…" he chuckled. "All right, it is gloating. I think we've earned it, though."

"Sure," I said. "And anyone who might wonder if there's a rational reason the Chantry can't stand us would have another reason to question it. We should leave very early, and very quietly."

"So you _are_ sober," Nathaniel said.

"Of course I am," I replied, standing up. "Ronan, however, is absolutely _trashed." _He'd continued drinking after Anders and Nathaniel had returned, worried about appearing in public.

He looked up at the sound of his name and snorted. "'m not." He tried to glare at me but wasn't quite able to direct his eyes properly. I'm sure the chair I was standing next to was properly chastised, though.

"He needs someone to tell him how to talk to girls," I whispered theatrically. Anders' face lit up and he went to sit by the inebriated templar. As expected, his desire to gloat disappeared when something more amusing was presented.

Nathaniel looked at me and we shared a grin. "Is this wise?" he asked.

"Hey, can you think of anyone better suited?" I asked. "Anders could talk his way into the Divine's bed if he put his mind to it. What's the harm?"

"Well, I might be able to…" Nathaniel chuckled when I looked at him with my eyebrows raised. "All right, perhaps not."

I listened in for a moment. "….now, if she catches you staring, look away after a few seconds, like you're embarrassed. But then, look _back_ and see if she's watching you. If she is smile at her and then look away again. No, not like that, you look like Maggie when she froze the Grand Cleric. That's _creepy_. A small smile. Right, good."

"He won't remember any of this once he sobers up," I pointed out.

"You know, you might be right," Anders said. He cast a spell quickly and Ronan's befuddled expression cleared after a moment.

Nathaniel and I cleared out, leaving them alone. Setting up in the small office we planned out recruitment goals for the next several years.

"This is the worst subject," I muttered. "But I guess we have to think about it. As of now, everyone we have will get their calling basically at once. You know, if we all live that long."

"I hope I don't," he snorted. "The thought of it makes my skin crawl."

"You and me both," I agreed. "I suspect the closer I get the less armor I'll start wearing to fight." He laughed at that idea.

"I don't like the idea of intentionally keeping our numbers down so we can stagger recruitment over the next thirty years," Nathaniel said. "From what I've seen of the pre-blight records that's what they were doing. All small Joinings of two or three people, once or twice a year. It had been almost twenty years since the Wardens were restored, but they only had about two dozen members total. Even yours, when the archdemon had already been confirmed…"

I nodded. "Right. If it was me, I wouldn't have left the Circle with one mage, I would have taken dozen, and grabbed people from every town and village on the way. They knew it was a blight, better to put a hundred people through the Joining at Ostagar. Especially knowing what we know about killing the archdemon. I don't understand why Duncan didn't."

"Caution, most likely. Judging by his reports Duncan was a very cautious man. You, however, are the complete opposite. Especially if you plan to die in your early fifties fighting an ogre in nothing but your smallclothes." I made a face at him, but he was right. "Loghain made no secret of his distrust. If the numbers grew too quickly…" I nodded. It would have looked to Loghain as proof the Wardens were building a small army, intent on harming Ferelden.

"We don't have to worry about that anymore," I said. "But I don't want to recruit as many as we need _now_ and leave the order in the hands of a bunch of recruits once we're all gone." Nathaniel agreed with that. "I'd rather have more Wardens than needed for a couple decades, and let things level out on their own over time." The two of us sketched out a rough plan of numbers, details, and potential garrison locations throughout Ferelden. I was actually rather impressed with how much we were getting done.

"So the question is, where do we put everyone," Nathaniel said. "I think we could house another seventy or so, maybe a hundred, at the Keep if we don't make people share rooms. I _strongly_ recommend continuing the private rooms, by the way. We're not city guards, everyone deserves at least a small space of their own. Considering what we do to them a bit of privacy is the least we can offer." I couldn't argue with that reasoning.

"Ah!" I laughed. "I have another castle!"

"_You_ have a castle." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you secretly heir to some fortune?"

"Of course not," I said. "There's two reasons why me being heir to _anything_ is impossible. It's not _mine_, it's ours. The Grey Wardens."

He looked at me for several seconds before realization dawned. "Oh no," Nathaniel said. "I've heard about that place. You might as well house people in the Blackmarsh!"

"It's not that bad," I said. "The old Warden mage who _made_ the mess with the Veil did most of the work to close it from this side already, back during the blight."

"What? How could he still live?"

"Blood magic," I said, shrugging. "Figured out how to keep himself going and delay the calling so he could find a way to fight the demons in Soldier's Peak. Might still be up there now. I'm not sure, I haven't been there in about four years. But we're off track. We have another castle. It's _huge_. Maybe even bigger than the Keep. I think it's older, too."

"Fine, a big haunted castle. With _demons_. That sounds very welcoming."

"Maker's breath, let me finish. I have a plan."

"My four least favorite words to hear from you."

I made a hushing noise. "This is mage stuff, I know what I'm doing. The veil is weak, but not torn. Weak is just fine, weak can be repaired. If it was torn, well, we'd have problems. That's Blackmarsh. It can be patched, but things are never quite right again. We've got tons of lyrium, and tons of mages. I'll have Aidan lead the ritual on this side of the veil, with some of the apostates if they're familiar with it. Anders and I will go into the fade with a couple other mages. Dermott, since I know the Circle teaches the fade and he's got a decent compliment of destruction spells, and maybe one other, someone skilled for heavy damage. Not too many since it's not an easy ritual. We fix it from that side, come back here, and Soldier's Peak is perfectly safe to live in."

"Just like that?"

"Well, from this side it'll be just like that. We have to go kill a few demons on the other side, though. That's why I need Anders and want other mages who can cause some damage."

"Just like Blackmarsh," he said, making a face. "I don't like this plan."

"Not just like," I said. "We were _pulled_ into the Fade there. When mages go of their own will it's different. We can manipulate things, we have much more power. We can even manipulate the Fade in our dreams, to some extent. It's hard to describe if you've never done it."

"All right," Nathaniel finally agreed. "I can't claim to understand something like this. I won't argue with you when it comes to magic, you're the expert, not I. If you think its best I'll have to trust your judgment." He shook his head. "As much as saying that terrifies me."

"Well thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You _do _know I defeated a blight, yes? I'm not _completely _incompetent."

"No, but you are a bit… reckless at times." He shrugged. "It isn't that I think your plan won't work, or that you're wrong about how it should be done. I worry you're understating the risk involved. You talk about fighting _demons_ like most people talk about running into town for some shopping. I _know_ the Chantry exaggerates things, but there is _some_ risk of possession, on top of the more obvious risk of death."

"There is," I agreed. "And that's why Anders and I will be there, too. I know he and I will be fine, and we can stop anyone else before something happens." I sighed. "Look, I also want a few other people there. The mages on this side will be focused on the ritual to send us over, and exhausted after. I'd like it if you were there, with a few others, to guard us. Have Ronan with you if it makes you less nervous. He'll be able to sense if someone returns possessed."

"You need _guards_ for this? Why?"

"While we're in the fade we're completely helpless on this side, just lying there. If we're attacked we'd never know, and if someone kills our physical bodies we wouldn't be able to return. It's a complete disconnect between body and mind. I'll warn you, when we're in the fade we will look and seem completely dead to anyone other than a mage. From what I know, people find it highly disturbing to see."

"Was it the same when we…"

"Yes. I didn't think you needed anything else to worry about at the time, though, since there was absolutely nothing we could do. I decided not telling you or Oghren was for the best, and made sure Anders didn't either. You were already at a disadvantage simply being there, adding the fear that darkspawn could be hacking away at our physical bodies while we were unaware certanly wouldn't have helped."

"I don't enjoy having decisions made for me, Maggie."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. But what could I say? 'By the way, we're trapped here and I also know of something that will make you absolutely terrified, although we're powerless to do a damned thing about it. Want to know what?'"

"No, I suppose not," he agreed. "When did you want to do this?"

"Soon, since it's old and no one's lived there for years. It'll take time to get it up to snuff, and I want a proper road to it build, since you can only access it through tunnels now. Let's figure out what's going on with the darkspawn first. Although Maker knows how long this will drag out. If it's isolated survivors instead of something organized…" I made a face.

"We could be finding them for years. What _is_ the lifespan of a darkspawn?"

"I have no idea. I don't think anyone's tried to keep one to see." I could just imagine locking one in a basement cage. 'Here's the armory, here's the kitchen, and here's our pet genlock. We call him Ser Rottenface. Don't stick your hand between the bars, he nips.' It was almost shameful how little we knew of darkspawn, even as Wardens. What they ate, if they even _had_ to eat, how long they lived, if they were born adults or had to grow to maturity… it was all a mystery. No real way to discover the answers, though.

Nathaniel and I planned out a few more recruitment trips. "I think I'd like to travel a bit," he admitted.

"Good," I said. "I don't think I should go on things like that anymore, not if I can help it. I was going to ask if you could for now, until some of the newer people get more time in." Since the darkspawn seemed to be after me specifically I was too much of a risk among a group of recruits who didn't have the immunity we did. I'd also realized my reputation preceded me far too frequently. It was difficult to find recruits when they were too nervous or in awe to actually speak to me. As much as I liked to pretend I was just another Warden, I was still the Hero of Ferelden to most people. Hating it and pretending otherwise wouldn't make it go away. "I will go when we try to find the Dalish, though," I said. "I think if I send anyone else they would see it as... rude. Like I didn't think they were worth my time. Does that make sense?"

"It does," he agreed. "They're known for being easy to offend." We listed out other places that might be worth visiting. Eventually I began to yawn. "Same here," he said, after the third or fourth time it happened. "I vote we call it a night, we got more done than either of us have in months." The two of us returned to the front room to discover that Ronan had resumed drinking, this time with Anders joining in.

"Good to see they didn't let guilt over how much we were accomplishing ruin their evening," Nathaniel said.

Neither had noticed us yet. "Exactly!" Anders was saying, words slurred as he agreed with some point Ronan must have made. "It should be a crime how the Circle keeps them all in ankle length robes. A _crime_. Now the Tevinters, they have the right idea with those short robes."

"Should we stop him before he goes on?" Nathaniel whispered.

"That might be wise," I agreed, walking over to them.

"—and this one set Maggie wears… oh Maker, when she bends over the back goes up and—" I should have walked faster.

"Which set is that?" I quickly interrupted him to ask.

They both jumped. "Heeeey!" Anders said, grinning. "I was just talking about… what a _fantastic_ dresser you are. Really." He put a hand on my hip, nodding. "Very sharp. You should wear those green robes more, though."

"That's the best you can do? Wow, you _must_ be drunk."

"Nooo," he protested. "No no no, not drunk. Just… tired. Very tired. I'm ready for bed. Are you ready for bed?"

I could hear Nathaniel talking to Ronan as I helped Anders stumble his way through the compound. "I do hope you realize," he was saying in the distance, "any advice he gave you only works on crazy women."

We managed to slip out of the city just after dawn, before anyone was the wiser. I sent a note over to Alistair telling him why, and promising to see him in the spring for his wedding. The first two days of travel was blissfully uneventful. We were taking the Pilgrim's Path north from Denerim. On the third day I sat on the front bench of the coach with my eyes closed, trying to sense any sign of darkspawn. We would be passing within half a day's walk from the silverite mine, all the reports had indicated that's where they were strongest.

A few times I made Anders stop the coach so I could walk a short distance into the woods, trying to get a better sense of things.

"I don't understand," I said as we continued on after I'd made us stop for the tenth time. "All the reports say this area should be _crawling_ with them. There's nothing! Nothing at all!"

"Maybe they realized we were watching and moved to another area?" Anders suggested.

"Hm… maybe. Disturbing thought, though. Even for the Architect that's fairly sophisticated reasoning. I don't like to think that they've become _that_ smart." We continued on, nearing the edge of the forest. "Slow down," I told Anders. He complied and I closed my eyes, waving to everyone for quiet so I could concentrate. "Wardens, not darkspawn. Right ahead of us." He continued on and, sure enough, once we crested the top of the small hill there was Rose and her group, walking home. "Want a lift?" I called. They gratefully climbed into the small coach, most cramming themselves into the back with Rose hopping onto the bench where Anders and I were sitting.

"Nothing," she said as soon as we were underway. "_Nothing_. We have picked over every square inch of this forest and found not so much as a single half-dead genlock."

"I noticed the same thing when we passed through," I said. "So, no darkspawn. What else?"

She shrugged. "They _were_ there. We saw tracks. I went into the mines, I know you said not to but I could tell they were empty. Found a few dead humans." She sighed. "We found a cell, I think it was the one they kept you in. A woman was still alive in it. I had to..." Rose made a face. "She was corrupted."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Decisions like that aren't easy, but there's nothing else you can do," I said. "You ended her suffering, at least. Letting it go on, that's worse... people become ghouls, their mind shatters and they want to do nothing but serve the darkspawn. I think most people would consider that far worse than death."

"I know," Rose agreed. "I just feel awful about it. She thought we were there to save her. I was quick, though... died before she knew what happened." She seemed to sag after saying that. I put my arm around her, knowing how she felt.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," I said again. "You did the right thing, but that's not always the easy thing to live with."

After a few moments she straightened up again, nodding in agreement. "If I had to guess, they were trying to make their own Wardens but don't know how to do the joining. The cup was still there, looked like they were using just plain blood, no lyrium or archdemon blood." That would never work. The level of corruption in normal darkspawn blood was just enough to kill. The concentration of it used in our joining, and the lyrium, was the only reason _anyone_ survived.

"They wouldn't know how," I agreed. "We have the Architect's notes."

"Well, we have some of this one's notes too, now," she said, patting her pack. "Looks like they cleared out in a rush, they left some things."

"Excellent," I said. "Any idea how long they were gone?"

"Not very," she said. "Their stink was all over everything. The prisoner was barely coherent, she couldn't tell us."

"Couldn't have been more than a day, two at the most," someone spoke up. I turned back, it was Moira, the apostate healer-scout. "A couple of the bodies we found couldn't have been dead much longer than that."

"Good catch," I told her. "Thank you." She grinned wildly, sitting up straighter.

"So, that was our week," Rose said. "How did it go in Denerim?"

Anders burst out laughing at that, followed by the rest of us in short order. "You won't believe it," I told her.

"Try me," she said. "I've gotten used to the unbelievable living with you people."

"Oh, let me," Anders said. I waved him on.

"So, we get there, the spy's been killed, they called a landsmeet and arrested the Grand Cleric. I got to meet Maggie's former lover, who is both the king's top spy as well as the new head of the Antivan Crows in Ferelden. Complete _maniac_, as you can imagine. Also, I think he's older than I am. I definitely have better hair." I rolled my eyes. "And I'm taller," Anders added.

"Anders, he's an _elf_, of course you're taller," I pointed out.

"Even so," he said.

"Since he's clearly stuck on that, I'll finish," I offered, quickly summarizing the chaotic Landsmeet.

"Just when I think things couldn't get stranger," Rose said, shaking her head. "But, at least they'll leave us alone now." We finally made it home late in the evening, and finding we missed dinner, I had the kitchen cook for us again. There were ten of us, after all. It wasn't as though I was demanding a special meal just for me. I wondered if hiring more cooks, so we had someone on all the time, would be a wise idea. Something to think about, certainly, given how many of us there were now and how hungry Wardens could get. Almost everyone drifted off to their own rooms after we ate, leaving Nathaniel, Anders and I alone in the dining hall.

"I don't like this," I muttered, looking over the papers Rose had collected. "They're acting smart, smarter than they did before." The handwriting was horrid, near incomprehensible, and the grammar left something to be desired, but I struggled through it. Really, that a darkspawn was literate at all, in a country where maybe a quarter of the population _wasn't_, was horrifying. Sigrun and Anders were even running small classes for the some of the new recruits who couldn't read here at the Keep.

I read an entry towards the end. "_Again trying to fight the Warden witch. Again they dead. Architect could not kill, how they think different now? Avoiding better. Continue work. Keep work safe." _

"That's the second reference to you in there," Anders pointed out. "Another came a bit earlier."

"The first must be from the group we found on the way back from Orzammar, this one from the deep roads," I guessed. "I hate that word. _Witch_. That's what Loghain called Morrigan, 'the marsh witch.' No one ever calls someone a witch when they mean mage. Only when they mean mage and bitch all at once."

"True," Anders said. "You really can't expect manners from darkspawn, though. And you did kill their leader. A bit of hatred is to be expected." I couldn't argue with that. We continued to try and figure out how we would find them now, until both of us realized Nathaniel had been utterly silent for more than an hour. I turned to look at him. He was staring at the table, chewing on a nail. "Of course, if we can't find them they won't even know about the big party we're throwing," Anders said, watching Nathaniel for a reaction. He didn't even blink.

"And then they won't get any of the cake," I agreed. "Also, my hair is on fire. And a dragon just landed on the roof." Still nothing.

"It's dancing the Remigold. We should be safe. I may offer it a job washing my robes. What do you think, Nathaniel?"

"Hmm… what? Oh, yes, I'm sure your plan is fine," he said, not looking up.

"My plan?" Anders asked. "What plan was that?"

"The… darkspawn plan." We both burst out laughing. That finally got him to look up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've got a bit on my mind."

"Clearly," I said. "You missed the bit about the dancing dragon on the roof completely."

"Go find Sigrun," Anders said. "Before I get bored and tell her myself."

"You wouldn't—" Nathaniel began before looking at Anders closely. His eyes narrowed. "No, you would. I swear, sometimes the two of you are like children. That can't be the Circle's fault."

We both laughed as he stormed out of the dining hall, rushing as though Anders was planning to race him upstairs.


	38. Be glad I don't wear weapons to bed

_Edited to add... spoilers for The Calling in this chapter. Basically amounts to a very very brief plot summary. I should have mentioned that when I posted this. So so sorry if I ruined it for anyone. :(_

* * *

Alistair once told me watching a mage rush forward clutching a sword and wearing armor was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Judging by the small groups who kept pausing in their own training and sparring to watch us, it seemed his opinion wasn't that rare.

"Back to work," I shouted to the snickering onlookers. "If you find it that funny I'll start grabbing people to spar with the mages. You won't be laughing when someone hits you with lightning!" That statement was punctuated with a not terribly ferocious growl from the puppy sitting by my feet. They grumbled but complied, I'm fairly sure the dog assumed it was her doing so I reached down to scratch behind her ears.

It had been the same thing for weeks. I watched the mages carefully, occasionally calling out instructions. They all mastered the spells quickly, to my surprise and happiness. I now had them paired up with each other. Light glinted off blades and magical shields as they alternated between magic and weapons to attack. Anders and I had even spent several nights enchanting a large pile of weapons, regular and practice, specifically for them to use. A few people had moved on already, joining Sigrun's training group for dual weapons, Oghren's for two-handed weapons, or Arthur's for weapon and shield training. They were fighting strictly with the practice weapons there, not wanting to accidentally cause permanent injuries to anyone with magic. I'd made everyone try out all styles at first, to see what they were best at, and let the rogues and warriors guide people in the direction they seemed best suited to.

The biggest problem, so far, was the robe issue. While most of the apostates were used to wearing armor or normal clothing, the circle mages had worn nothing but robes since childhood. Dermott and Aidan reacted to the change even worse than Anders and I had. They both veered towards dual weapons, but complained incessantly about either wearing just armor, since their legs were cold, or armor with leggings, since having something wrapped around skin that had never known anything tighter than pajama pants felt alien and uncomfortable. A few of the more flagrant apostates, who always wore robes, voiced similar complaints. I couldn't blame them. I'd finally given Master Wade two mages' robes, a men's and women's, asking if he could find some way to make light or medium-weight armor that was similar. Having such a bizarre project seemed to amuse him.

I finally dismissed everyone, realizing we were nearing dinnertime. "Don't forget, no training tomorrow. I want everyone in their _best_. That means Warden equipment, clean robes, and polished armor and weapons." Once they were gone I headed inside myself, taking the stairs two at a time with the dog at my heels. I'd scooped her up from the kennels when we returned from Denerim and she had been following me everywhere ever since. "You missed training," I called to Anders. He was seated by the fire, studying the darkspawn paperwork. Despite scouts leaving at least once a week we had yet to find any evidence of the darkspawn.

"Hm?" he looked up. "Sorry, just sitting here, shaking in terror. Must have lost track of time."

"What's wrong?" I asked, quickly crossing the floor to him. He silently passed the Architect's massive journal, held open with his thumb. When a Grey Warden says something has them terrified it's usually wise to sit before reading it. Fortunately Anders was there to catch me when I slumped.

"See what I mean?" he asked. I nodded, feeling ice flowing through me.

"Get Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Oghren," I said. "We need to… to…" I looked up at him, helplessly. "What are we going to _do_?"

He didn't answer, meeting my glance with an equally helpless one before leaving.

Sigrun arrived first, Nathaniel on her heels. "What's wrong?" she said, looking at the expression on my face.

"Wait for everyone," I said. They sat down on a small sofa by the fire, looking nervous. Anders finally returned with Oghren, who had been working in the practice yard. "Lock the door," I said. "We don't need everyone rioting." Anders did as I asked, returning to sit near me, arm around my shoulder. "So… you know how we all thought the blight was unusual? It began out of nowhere, the archdemon appeared after just two years, and was over just as quickly?"

"You make it sound _easy_," Oghren said. "But… I've seen the records in the Shaperite. Usually the bastards build their numbers for decades before even touching the surface. This, it was maybe a year or two. A year or two of a living nightmare, sure, but it's normally a century or more."

"And in past blights it's taken decades for the archdemon itself to appear," Nathaniel added.

"Well… it wasn't normal. I think Anders found out why, in the Architect's old notes." I passed the book back to him.

"Right," Anders said, pushing his hair back. "So, the Architect's little 'ritual,' the one to make his less-idiotic darkspawn?" Everyone nodded. "He performed it on the archdemon. He _made_ the archdemon. It didn't work, and his touch was enough to corrupt the old god and start the blight."

"That makes sense," Sigrun said slowly. "Normally the darkspawn would know when they were close to the old gods, they'd… start preparing. If it was that sudden they wouldn't have the numbers." She shook her head. "I'm so glad we killed him."

"It gets worse," Anders said. "He knew where they are, the old gods. Where they _all_ are, including the two still unaccounted for. He doesn't mention the locations, but says only his most trusted disciples shared in the information."

"If one of those disciples is leading them now…" Nathaniel said, shuddering. Sigrun gasped loudly, paling, and he put a protective arm around her shoulder. "How did he find out?"

"A sodding _Warden_ told him," I said, slamming my foot on the ground in anger. "Stupid sodding _bastard_. If I could bring him back to life now I would, just to kill him myself! Went for his Calling and the Architect stopped him. He fell for that bull about freeing his people from the Old Gods' call. Fat lot of good it did."

"How did he know where they were _to_ tell?" Nathaniel asked. "_We_ don't know... do we?"

"I don't," I confirmed. I'm sure he wondered how many layers of Warden secrecy there were, if I had information none of them did. While the five of us knew quite a bit more than everyone else in the building, I didn't know anything that I hadn't already shared with them. I was never great with secrets, though. I barely opened my eyes before I told Jowan all about the Harrowing, and we'd had that secrecy drummed into us from childhood. "I know who the Warden he mentioned was, it was that whole mess with King Maric accompanying Wardens from Orlais into in the Deep Roads, tied to the conspiracy in the Circle, maybe twenty five years ago. He was commander in Orlais before his Calling, maybe they're privy to information we don't have? It's a larger nation. Most people think they're more important." I shrugged. "Maybe all the Commanders knew then, and because of this Weisshaupt keeps the information locked up now."

"What do we do?" Sigrun asked. "We need to do _something_, we can't just sit on this information."

"I know," I agreed. "I'm going to write to the First Warden. He either needs to send someone trusted here, or one of us will have to go there. They _have_ to know this, but there's no way I can just send a letter."

"This might mean nothing," Nathaniel said. "The disciple who knows where they are, they may know trying the joining will just trigger a blight automatically from what happened before."

"True," I said.

"You want to risk it?" Oghren asked. "That Architct was a clever bastard, he didn't seem to learn his lesson after screwing up with the archdemon. Kept right on going, making the Mother and all of her blighters. These survivors don't exactly seem to be the pick of the litter."

"I know," I agreed. "I just don't know _what_ to do. If we can find out where they are we can keep an eye on the area, watch for darkspawn numbers to go up… maybe we can kill the archdemon before it hits the surface."

"That sounds fairly suicidal," Anders said. I nodded and he sighed. "Well, I can't think of a better plan. Anyone?" They shook their heads.

"Only other thing I can think of… we need to finish going through these papers. There are hundreds of pages left. Its slow reading if you're actually studying them like Anders has been, but if we all take some of what's left we can just skim them for details. Maybe he listed the locations somewhere else. We've been sitting on them for a couple years now, who knows what else is hiding in there."

We divided the pages up, talking for a bit longer. "This couldn't happen at a worse time," Nathaniel groaned. "We have to act like nothing's wrong, at least until tomorrow is over." I nodded. We were dedicating the stature the next day, seeing every senior Warden in Ferelden gripped by panic wouldn't exactly reassure anyone.

"I think, until we have more information, we should keep this quiet," I said. "No one else should know. I don't want anyone saying something, or panicking."

"When are the Orlesian mages due?" Anders asked. So far, none of the other Commanders had written to us. Either they were too busy, or just not interested.

"Soon?" I shrugged. "They went to Vax Royeaux and caught a boat there, I got a letter when they departed. Depends on the winds I guess. Next week, maybe?" I'd never even been on a boat, other than the small ferry on Lake Calenhad. I had no idea how long they took to get places.

"Well, at least one of them speaks our language, then. I'm not completely thrilled with the idea of Orlesians here as it is." Nathaniel made a face.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Maker's breath, the war ended before any of us were even born! You can't think of them as Orlesian, just think of them as Wardens. And they _all_ speak our language. I certainly can't teach someone a spell if I can't talk to them."

"I know," he said. "It's just… not easy."

"Avoid them if you have to," I sighed. "Just don't… say anything. They're Wardens, not Chevaliers; none of them were responsible for the occupation, I doubt any of them will even be old enough to remember it if they were even alive then. They fight darkspawn, same as us."

"You're right," he said. "It isn't easy to put aside everything I was told growing up, though." He shook his head.

"Well, we have to," I said. "Wardens haven't been in Ferelden that long, they're all judging the whole order here based on us, we have no reputation to fall back on."

"No pressure or anything," Anders said, laughing.

"Just think about how furious it would have made your father to see you getting along with Orlesians," Sigrun offered. "That alone should make it fun."

Nathaniel chuckled at that idea. "Well, you may have a point there."

After breakfast the next day Anders and I returned to our room to get ready. I puzzled over what to wear for some time before deciding on Warden robes. The puppy had been sent off to the kennels until the crowd was gone. It wouldn't really do for her to be trampled before I even thought of a decent name. "Why did I think this was a good idea?" I asked Anders as he buttoned up his robes.

"You're still guilty that he died so you could live," Anders answered without a pause.

"I'm that transparent?"

"Only to me," he said, smiling. "I think he made the right call, for whatever it might be worth. Leaving aside my purely selfish reasons for preferring you alive, Loghain couldn't do your job. I'm sure he knew that."

"You're kidding, right? The Hero of River Dane couldn't handle commanding a force of all of fifty people?"

Anders rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course, since that's _all_ you do. He burned too many bridges. As much as you talk about how our past doesn't matter, do you really think the Orlesian Wardens he killed or tortured would be forgotten by the rest of the order? Or everyone else he wronged? Not everyone is as idealistic as you are." He sighed, holding up a staff. "Weapons or no weapons?"

"You're asking me? Be glad I don't wear weapons to bed."

"Fair enough," he said, adding a staff and greatsword to his back.

"New?" I asked, looking at the sword.

"Oghren's idea," he admitted. "He said once I stop 'running away from the front line like a pansy' that I'd be best with something like this. Something about my 'abnormal height,' according to him. But then, he says everyone is abnormally tall."

"Except Sigrun," I said, laughing. "Well, he doesn't call me abnormal. Just reminds me he's the right height to give a human girl a good time."

"Highly disturbing," Anders said. "If it was anyone else I'd get quite jealous, but I just find the mental image too odd to become angry over it."

We headed downstairs, one of the Keep's staff stopping us on the way to tell me that people had already started arriving. The main hall was already crowded with nobles and Wardens. I saw Arl Bryland talking to Ser Cauthrien in the main hall with a blonde woman who I assumed to be Anora, although I couldn't tell from the back of her head. Most of the local nobility was also milling about, for reasons I couldn't quite understand. I certainly hadn't invited them. Instead, I'd made a point of writing to invite most of the people who fought with Loghain in the rebellion that we could track down, and the people he was actually friends with. Or, well, on speaking terms with. He wasn't a man with many close enough to call themselves friends, after all. Varel had done a fantastic job, I could see a few very old men speaking with Caitlin and drawing strange looks from most of the nobles present. I suspect seeing elves who were very clearly not Wardens or servants was unexpected. "Stay near me," I whispered to Anders. "If you see anyone I haven't talked to let me know. I don't want someone leaving to complain that I ignored them."

"Yes, Commander," he said with a chuckle. We worked our way through the crowd, thanking people and making annoying smalltalk. For some reason everyone wanted to discuss the weather. After the seventh or eighth person said "cold, isn't it?" or some variation to that end I wanted to ask if they'd forgotten that it was still a week until Wintersend and we lived in _Ferelden_. Of course it was cold. Might as well comment on the smell of dogs if the goal is to state the obvious.

Anora was, proving Nathaniel's suspicions right, _enormous_. "Maker's breath," I said, looking at her. "Wow!"

"Wow is right," Anders muttered. "I really don't want to deliver a baby in the front hall. I hope no one comes up behind her and screams boo, she's close enough that could be enough to do it."

"Is _all that_ baby? I mean… it would have to come out, right? Wouldn't that, well, kill most people?" Needless to say, my life as a circle mage and Warden hadn't exposed me to many pregnant women.

He laughed at me. "Well, it's not _comfortable_, but no, it isn't usually fatal. Very rarely fatal, in fact, with a healer or midwife onhand." Anders shook his head. "You're lucky you didn't end up normal, that could have been you." I shuddered at the idea before plastering a smile on my face and walking over to the group.

After exchanging greetings Anora leaned towards me, lowering her voice. "I have to admit, I was surprised to receive your letter. I've always thought you might have allowed him to live out of practicality."

"In part, maybe," I admitted. "I was no commanding officer back then. I'm better now, but that's all from things he taught me. I would have been a fool to throw away the greatest general in our country, especially with a senior Warden telling me I should recruit him. I always admired your father, though, even as a child. And now, well…" I shrugged. "He was a Warden who killed an archdemon. We don't take that lightly."

"That is… good to know," she said. "I'm shocked by how many people are here."

"Me too," I agreed. "I didn't invite the local nobility, but half of them came anyways." I dropped my voice even lower. "They don't much care for me. Although that one," I said, pointing to a man in a blue doublet whose name had escaped me, "said I reminded him of your father. I was flattered, but Nathaniel had to explain he didn't mean it as a compliment."

She actually burst out laughing at that. "Who are all the other people?" she asked. "I assume the ones in armor and robes are your Wardens, but all the old men?"

"My seneschal is brilliant," I said. "I had him trying to track down some of the people your father fought with during the rebellion." I gestured to the pocket of elderly elves. "Those men were in the Night Elves," I told her, referring to the elite group of archers Loghain formed from the rebel army.

Cauthrien perked up at that. "Really? I think I might like to speak with them. The teyrn was always very… reluctant to talk about that part of his life."

"Actually, so would I," Anora said.

"I think they'd be thrilled," I told her. "It would give them something to brag to their grandchildren about." I'd spoken to them earlier and mentioned she was there. They knew, but thought someone like her wouldn't be interested in what a few old elves had to say. They were actually some of the more entertaining people in the room, brazenly flirtatious in the way that only sweet old men can get away with. "Do you Wardens have a rule about only recruiting the prettiest girls you can find?" one had asked, with another adding that if the girls in the army looked like us he would have stayed on after the war ended before pinching Rose's cheek, to her surprise. They excused themselves to talk to the old soldiers, leaving Anders and I alone again.

We had just started explaining who everyone was to some of the new recruits when Varel tapped me on the shoulder. "We may have a problem," he said quietly. I gestured to the office; he and Anders both followed me.

"Someone steal the statue and replace it with one of a mabari?" I asked. "Alistair show up and knock it over?"

"The Orlesian mages are here," he said.

"Blast," I muttered. "They're early. Where are they?"

"Outside. And very confused." Well, understandably so since they apparently weren't being allowed in.

"Wait… someone just left them outside?" I shook my head, already walking to the door. "I'd better go talk to them," I said, already heading out the door. "Anders, if anyone tries to corner me on my way through the hall you'll have to distract them."

"Got it," he said. "It's been, what, two years since our last riot here? Should be fun!" I shook my head and walked as fast as I could through the room, hoping people would realize I was in a rush. Once I made it to the door we slipped out. I closed it quickly, leaning back and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Is there a problem?" an accented voice asked. I opened my eyes, seeing three mages who did, indeed, look very confused. I noticed the men both had very short hair and neatly groomed moustaches. The woman had light brown hair, twisted into an intricate braided bun. And she was wearing makeup. Makeup! To travel! I had a house full of minor nobility and hadn't even bothered with makeup. I noticed Anders' hand drift to the stubble on his cheek, thoughts perhaps echoing my own. So much for not looking like barbarians.

"No?" I answered quickly. "Maybe?" Shaking my head I realized this was not the best first impression I could give. "I'm really sorry, we weren't expecting you for another week, and you must think I'm completely insane."

"We had favorable winds," the same man said. "You're having… a party?"

"Dedicating a statue, actually," I said. "To be completely honest, I've got a building full of prissy nobles and old men who fought in Maric's army," I said, deciding mincing words wouldn't help any of us.

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? Who is the statue of?" I suppose he would be the spokesman for the group.

"Loghain," I said plainly.

"The Hero of _River Dane_?" the other man said, sounding shocked. On the surface it would be a strangely political statue for a supposedly apolitical order. The woman with them seemed to understand, though. She hit him across the back of the head, muttering something in Orlesian. I managed to pick out the Orlesian words for archdemon and Warden.

"I don't speak much Orlesian," I admitted, "but I think you've got the sum of it." I shugged. "You're absolutely welcome to join us, the Keep's staff just put some food out, and then I have to give a speech which I'm sure will be horrid. And then hopefully all of these people will get out of our home and we can return to normal. But if you're not comfortable with that or just want to rest after your trip I can show you where your rooms are. Totally your decision, don't feel pressured either way."

Anders nudged me. "Forgetting something?"

"Maker's breath, I'm an idiot," I said, once his reminder registered. "I'm Maggie, this is Anders. I suppose I should have said that _first_." I couldn't help but put my hand to my face in embarrassment. "Welcome to Ferelden. I swear we're not usually like this. It's been a… trying week. These people," I gestured behind me, "are only the _least_ of it."

The man in front chuckled at that. "I think we would very much like to join you," he said, in a tone that made me think he didn't really care how much the others wanted to, they would be there regardless. "We all had a past before the Wardens, after all. His was simply… more colorful. Giving your life to kill the archdemon, well, we all know what that means." I was fairly sure most of that was just him being polite but I appreciated the gesture. "This is Laurent and Marguerite," he said, introducing the other two, "I'm Alain."

"Oh!" I said, recognizing the name. "We've exchanged letters. I had no idea you were a mage."

"Very few do," he admitted. "But… keeping that from the Chantry has many benefits. I was an apostate before joining, so they had no records of me at the Circle. I prefer my robes, but if I ever have to make a public appearance I just wear light armor." He shrugged. "Had you not been so well known before being appointed I suspect Weisshaupt would have told you to keep it quiet outside the order as well. You aren't the first mage appointed Commander, just the first that they couldn't hide. It's like the 'one mage at a time' rule. We tell the Chantry that and then, once they look elsewhere, we simply do whatever we like."

Anders laughed. "She doesn't even tell the Chantry that much. We've got about a dozen mages right now."

"They would have hated me no matter what," I said. "But, they overplayed their hand and I think we should be fine now." I shrugged. "If not…"

"Ah, you got that lecture from Weisshaupt as well?" I nodded and the five of us shared a grin.

I invited them inside, waiving someone over from refilling one of the tables full of food to show the three mages where they would be staying. Nathaniel appeared next to me within seconds of their disappearance upstairs. "This isn't happening, right?" he said, looking nervous. "I'm still in bed, and this is a new political version of the Warden nightmares?"

"Oh no," I said, "it is."

"They're… staying upstairs, right?"

"Nope," I said. "The man with the dark hair, he insisted they would be honored to join us celebrating the Warden who killed the archdemon. And, since he's the Commander, I think the other two have to play along." I shrugged. "We're all heading outside very soon, hopefully no one will even be the wiser." Sure enough, they returned downstairs just in time for me to lead everyone into the courtyard.

Nathaniel and I pulled the drape off the statue. I was glad to see everyone looked impressed. The head of the archdemon was at the bottom, with Loghain looming over it, sword in hand as he prepared to strike. I'd rejected several sketches that made him look too angry. In reality, he looked almost relieved, maybe even peaceful. Well, until he actually struck the blow. Then... he didn't look quite so peaceful. That wouldn't make for a very nice statue, though. Below it was his name, birthdate, date of death and the line "_Address me without a title, as you would any other Grey Warden,_" since I'd heard him say that to Zevran once and it stuck in my mind. It seemed fitting.

My speech, which both Anders and Nathaniel had heavily contributed to, was mercifully short. I talked about the strangeness of fighting alongside someone who was my childhood hero, became my enemy, and later my friend and brother, and how much I had learned from him in the short time we traveled together. Referencing the sacrifices of Wardens wasn't too difficult, I knew that the people who should understand would, and the others would just assume I was talking about the typical sacrifices in war. It ended with something vaguely inspirational, about how he represented what all Wardens could accomplish regardless of past. It was actually very nice, Anders had written most of that part, but the combination of our Orlesian guests arriving early and the discovery of the previous night had my head spinning. I was lucky the entire thing was written out, I don't think I could have repeated more than ten words from memory. I concluded with the Warden oath. To my surprise, I'd barely gotten two words out before the other Wardens all joined in, even the Orlesian group.

Thankfully it didn't take long for most of our guests to depart. From what I gathered most were staying at the high-end inn in Amaranthine. I'd never been there, but it was apparently very nice. And preferred over staying with a bunch of crazed warriors, no doubt. To my surprise I saw Anora speaking with Alain after everything was finished. I was even _more_ surprised when she burst into tears and gave him a hug. Not as much as he was, but I still could think of about two hundred more likely scenarios than that. Apparently my turn was next. Her husband shrugged helplessly from behind her as she gave me a tearful thank you.

"I'm sorry," she said after releasing me. "I don't know what's wrong, I can't go two days without wanting to cry and hug everyone in sight. I swear, this baby can't come soon enough!" I made sure to give her the stuffed griffon for the baby before they left, causing her to burst into tears once more, this time because it was "so adorable." By the time everyone left _I_ was ready to cry with relief.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing! (did this get linked somewhere or something? My hits went insane yesterday and I can't figure out why. That, or maybe stats are wonky again.)_


	39. Oh well, on to preventing the apocalypse

Once the last of the nobles had cleared out Anders and I approached Alain. "Since it's late and you've been traveling I figured we wouldn't start until tomorrow. I see you met Loghain's daughter," In fact, he still seemed to be in shock.

"That _did_ happen, yes?" he said. "I didn't fall and hit my head? The Hero of River Dane's daughter just _embraced _me? While crying?"

"Women can get… emotional when they're with child," Anders said, shrugging. "I had to take care of a couple in the tower. So what did you say that set her off?"

"Well, I recognized her, so I thought I should express my sympathy for her loss. I… should have realized my accent would create questions. She asked who I was and I _still_ wasn't thinking, apparently, since before I could stop myself I told her I was Commander of the Grey in Orlais. I _then _finally realized that could be… impolitic for you." He blushed, looking apologetic. "So I said I was here on behalf of our branch of the order to pay respect to the man who killed the archdemon." He shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with so quickly. I hope she just attributed my hesitation to a language barrier."

"Well, she did hug you, so I think you're fine," I said. "And the Teyrna is not a hugging sort of woman. Not normally, at least." I sighed. "But, they're gone now, and we can move on to dealing with the usual threats to all life in Thedas."

"Is it that late already?" Anders said. "Feels like we just had lunch. Oh well, on to preventing the apocalypse. _Again_."

"It never really ends, does it?" Alain said, chuckling.

"You have _no _idea how true that is around here. I'm glad you're here, we learned something… very disturbing recently that will be of interest. Just found out last night, actually. I wouldn't be comfortable putting it into writing, we've had issues with mail being intercepted lately. I think everything is fine now, but for this I wouldn't risk it."

"Your Chantry troubles?" he asked. "They were reading your mail?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Word travels."

"It does? I never hear a thing."

"No one ever hears from Weisshaupt, not unless they've done something very good or very bad. Even then, well…" he shrugged, looking disgusted. "They send someone out with a pile of money, pat you on the head, and rush home. I usually get the best gossip from Marko, the Commander in Antiva. It was Gerard in the Free Marches who told us about your recent problems, though. They get more news from Ferelden than we do in Orlais."

"Believe me, Weisshaupt's money is the one thing I'll never complain about with them. Sure, advice would be more useful in the long term, but advice doesn't put food on the table." I said. "What are people saying? You're the only person from the order who ever writes to us."

"The usual," he said, waving his hand. "All the gossip about you sounds much the same. Some misguided lunatic tries to hurt the order, you bring the Black City down on their head, and then everyone in Ferelden names their next child after you. The bit about saving the king's life… we assumed that was poetic embroidery." He blushed slightly. "We have to take most stories about you with a hint of skepticism. By the time they reach us people talk as though you kill whole armies of darkspawn before breakfast and settle civil wars on the weekend."

"I hate how that happens," I said. "It's horrible. I can't even go out looking for recruits anymore since people are too intimidated to talk to me." _Better than the rest of the order thinking I was using it for a personal crusade against templars, though,_ I reminded myself. Or actually believing the bad things about me… that would be even worse.

"That… could also be why you don't hear more from the other commanders," he mused. "I know some are intimidated by your reputation. I asked Marko if he thought we should write to you, offering advice, when you were appointed. They did the same for me when I was named commander. He said 'what could I ever tell someone that killed an archdemon!'"

Dealing with my reputation among outsiders was annoying enough, I had always believed at least other Wardens would just think of me as just another one of them. I tried not to show how sad finding out otherwise made me on my face, though, since I knew he didn't mean it unkindly. "There's quite a bit I could stand to learn, believe me. I may not need help with finding ways to kill darkspawn, but the rest? I'm clueless most of the time. And saving the king? Completely my own idiocy there," I admitted. "When they attacked I jumped in front of him since he wasn't in armor." He looked slightly confused at that explanation, maybe because it seemed to confirm the rumors, so Anders clarified.

"Which was the only reason any of the attackers even glanced at the king in the first place," he finished. "Maggie was the target from the beginning. If they had a secondary target it would have been me, not Alistair. They were out for mage blood, not royalty."

"Basically," I agreed. "She hinted at a threat to Alistair, but only because he wouldn't give in to her demands. You know, since the only reason someone wouldn't demand the Wardens allow templars among them and order the execution of their commander is because he's in the thrall of a blood mage." I rolled my eyes at that. "But, killing me would have solved that problem anyways, in her mind. Standing so close to him when they attacked was _not_ my brightest idea."

"It amazes me how little the Chantry seems to understand about blood magic," he said. "As though anyone could control a mind to that degree."

I nodded in agreement. "I've only ever seen mind control used when the caster was actually _possessed_, not just a blood mage. It didn't seem strong, and it seemed _really_ tough to do even for what little hold they managed for a short time."

"I've heard it's quite obvious- like speaking with the possessed. Voices monotone, movements like a puppet. I attempted it just once myself. A friend and I tried to order each other to do something simple. Nothing horrid… fetch me a glass of wine, recite the Warden oath, something like that, just to see if we could. Not a _thing_ happened."

Anders made a face at me. "Don't you dare," he warned. "I'll order Ronan to smite you myself if you do."

"I won't, don't worry," I said. "I'm happier simply assuming I can't, anyways."

Alain laughed at our exchange. "I was quite young at the time. Today, well, I'm rather glad to _know_ I can't. It wouldn't help against darkspawn, at any rate. It was simply youthful curiosity." I could certainly understand his mindset there, even if Anders was slightly horrified. Glancing at him again I realized he was older than I initially thought. When they arrived I thought he was about thirty, but from this distance I would guess he was actually much closer to, if not over, forty.

I looked up at the darkening sky. "Dinner should be called soon. I need to go to the kennels and get my puppy." I said. I explained "if I don't spend a few hours a day with her the imprinting might not take. After that we'll head up to our sitting room and show you what we've found." I braced myself, offering "go ahead, get the dog jokes out. Its fine, we've heard them all." We headed across the yard to the outbuilding housing the dogs.

"I won't make jokes," Alain said. "I understand mabari are used in most battles here. And, my lieutenant told me if I insulted your dogs while in Ferelden she would find out and shave my head for it when I got home."

Anders laughed at this. "Look, Maggie, you're not the only one with a Nathaniel! Does yours wince every time you say you've got a good idea?"

"Unfortunately Corinne is far too vocal to limit herself to a mere wince." He sighed. "It is my own fault. I picked her, after all. 'She seems a responsible woman,' I thought. 'She could help me with those damned reports I write that no one replies to, and she knows more of tactics and strategy than I.' I should have realized it would be years of someone calling me reckless and yelling that I had to stop speaking in public if I was going to place my foot in my mouth every time." He paused. "That is the right phrase? _Foot_ in mouth?" I nodded. "Good. I made a slight mistake the last time I was in Ferelden. Was misunderstood completely and they took me to a brothel. Quite embarrassing, and my wife wouldn't speak to me for days." Once Anders and I figured out what he must have said we both roared with laughter.

"You're making that up," Anders insisted.

"I wish I was," Alain said, shaking his head as we walked into the kennel. "I thought it was a strangely crude idiom."

My nameless puppy all but leapt into my arms as soon as the door was open. "Here to try again, ser?" the houndmaster asked Anders. He glanced at me.

"Worth a shot," I said. Anders kneeled in the kennel for a minute or so and one of the dogs finally climbed up onto his lap, licking his face. "Success!" he called out. Holding the dog in his arms, he walked out making cooing noises. "I won't be mean like Maggie and leave you without a name!" Anders said. "I'm going to call you Ser Barks-a-lot"

"You're kidding me," I said.

"What? It's a fine name for a dog, and it matches the cat's name. I can call him Barks for short. Or Ser Barks!" The dog yipped happily at that. "Hey, better than _Dane_," he chuckled. The mabari in his arms made an amused snort, mine growled in response.

Alain watched us with the dogs. He had looked amused at first, but that expression had been replaced by shock. "I've heard the stories, but… it's almost like they really _do_ understand you."

"Of course they do," I said. "Mabari are smart. They can't talk but they can understand what we say and carry out really complex orders, and they can communicate to the extent of letting you know their feelings or giving yes and no answers, once you learn to understand them."

"Such as?"

"You can tell them to stay close in battle and keep you clear, for example, so you don't get stabbed mid-spell. Or tell them 'go help so-and-so' if you see someone's overwhelmed, or even 'don't flank the ogre, they kick.' Once they're full grown a mabari is easily as strong as a man, too. They can take down a genlock or hurlock with a single snap of their jaws."

"You'll see people training with dogs tomorrow," Anders added. "Everyone outside Ferelden might joke about them, but really, if they didn't work we wouldn't keep using them in battle." He chuckled. "I'm sure the whole country would still be overrun with dogs, just not the battlefields as well."

I kept my eyes peeled for Nathaniel when we walked through the Keep. The front hall was filled with groups laughing and talking, a few small card games, and even a couple of our mages chatting like old friends with the other two Orlesians. "We can find Nathaniel at dinner," I shrugged. "I'm not interrupting them if they're upstairs."

"You mean again?" Anders laughed. "Well, I'm headed up there to introduce Ser Barks to the cat. If I see them I'll let them know not to make plans for after dinner."

"I didn't interrupt!" I said. "Well, I did, but I didn't _walk in_ or anything. I just knocked on the door. I didn't know he'd stop what they were doing to answer. He could have shouted 'I'm busy!' I was only checking to see if he needed arrows before I went to talk to Master Wade." Anders chuckled and gave me a quick kiss before walking away.

"I was wondering if you allowed… fraternization," Alain said as we sat down. "I don't care, myself, but in Nevarra they live like templars. And apparently in the Anderfels the unwritten rule is against serious relationships, but not the physical act."

"I pretty much let people do whatever they want as long as they get their jobs done," I said. "Most give up so much to be Wardens, if they can find a way to be happy I won't stop anyone. I really don't have any rules beyond expecting everyone to be decent to each other and fighting when they need to."

"Our policy has always been the same in Orlais," he said. "Most people see it as a miserable life, so if that keeps everyone from running off…" he shrugged. "And celibacy is just so…" he made a face.

"Unnatural?" I supplied.

"At best," Alain agreed. "No wonder templars are such _fils de pute._" I had no idea what the literal meaning of that was, but I could understand the context easily enough. "I met my wife at our Joining, though, so I suppose it is selfishness as well." We continued to speak, comparing the way each of us ran things in our own nations. I found we shared similar attitudes about most things, although Alain seemed to make far more decisions on his own for Orlais, where Ferelden was basically ruled by committee. I was enjoying my first chance to actually _talk_ to someone from the order who knew what was going on and would answer my questions, although it seemed like Alain wasn't _much_ more informed than I was. An idea struck me.

"You know, we should have meetings, like the Dalish do."

"The Dalish have meetings?" he looked at me, confused.

"Every few years, yeah," I said. "Each clan will send a small group to represent them, and they all catch up on what happened since their last meeting, talk about problems they might have had or useful things they've learned, and share information. We should do that. Every couple years have small groups of Wardens get together from everywhere. We're so isolated now."

"That's an idea," he said. "We certainly are, and knowing what's happening elsewhere is wise. The borders between nations aren't respected by darkspawn, after all. Weisshaupt seems to like leaving us to our own devices more than I'd like, other than occasionally sending money."

"They sent us a good deal after our attack. Actually, though, what you sent was the biggest help of all. Weisshaupt didn't reply to me for months, your stuff arrived even faster than the crown's response. I still can't thank you enough, our entire armory was burnt to cinders, as was the smith's workshop. We had nothing more than the gear on our backs."

He shrugged dismissively. "It was the least I could do. I was leading the Wardens turned away at the Ferelden border during the blight. When I heard about what you went through after that I felt horrible. We should have used the full strength of the order on everything in our way to get into Ferelden and help. I argued for it but Weisshaupt ordered me home. They said we would only end up banned from Ferelden again. I'm still furious. _Politics_!" Alain all but spit the word out, his obvious anger causing his accent to grow thicker with every word. "Our duty is to end the blight, and Maker help anything that dares stand in our way!"

I felt relieved hearing that. It had always been difficult to reconcile the 'any means necessary' credo of the Wardens with the mental image of the forces of Orlais calmly turning around at the border. I'd often thought of what I would have done in their shoes and found the answer, invariably, was that I would do my duty or die trying, same as I actually ended up doing. Finding out Weisshaupt had ordered us abandoned us to our fate made me look at the situation in a new light. Killing as many as I did during the blight who only wanted to protect their nation and believed the lies about the Wardens was difficult enough, I often questioned if that was the right thing. If it was, where were the other Wardens, after all? I wasn't sure if I would have been able to do that also knowing with certainty it went against the direct orders of the First Warden. I'm sure I would have questioned what my duty actually was.

Alain took a breath, realizing how visibly upset he had become. "I couldn't ask everyone to stand against the army of Ferelden _and _Weisshaupt based on my interpretation of our oaths. Many, they said… leave them to it. They're too foolish to know, so we wait until the archdemon moves on, kill it then." He shrugged apologetically. "I was of a mind that allowing the archdemon to continue would only let the darkspawn build up strength. Best end it as soon as we can, and if anyone is too foolish to see the need can stop us with force. Or rather… try to."

"I've wondered about what happened," I said. "I'm glad it was politics, actually. I killed… so many people. I thought I was doing the right thing, fighting anyone that tried to stop me from ending the blight. But part of me always wondered if it would have been better to just leave Ferelden and find other Wardens, prepare for the archdemon in a country that wanted our help."

"Who can say what is right?" he said, shrugging. "I would have done what you did. I know others, just as loyal as either of us, who would have left. I would say you were in the right since you ended up defeating the archdemon, but it's easy to look back and say that now, years later." I nodded, understanding his point. "Several of us agreed that _someone _had to go in, though, at least to see what was happening and to try and find both yourself and Alistair. We knew only that two Wardens survived, and both were fresh recruits. No one knew how much, or little, you knew. We thought Riordan would be best since he was originally from Ferelden and he could hide what little accent he had acquired since moving to Orlais."

"He was an immense help," I said. "I didn't even know how to kill the archdemon until he told me, and he managed to injure a wing badly enough that it couldn't fly away from us. And if he hadn't suggested we conscript Loghain I would be dead now."

"Or Alistair," Alain said.

I shook my head. "I'd definitely be dead either way. I'm nothing, just some mage who got really lucky. He was heir to the throne. Damn the whole country to another civil war just to save my own life? Not a chance. Some would accept Anora as queen, but others would have fought for someone of noble blood. If he took the final blow it would have been because it was _literally_ over my dead body." I shrugged. "I didn't order Loghain to do it, either. He insisted. Logically I can see it was for the best but…"

He nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't want to meet the person that could gladly send someone to their death."

"That never gets any easier, does it?"

Alain shook his head sadly. We continued to talk until Anders returned downstairs for dinner. I felt bad watching the Orleasians stare down in horror at their food. I should have remembered how much Leliana complained about Ferelden cooking. It must have been worse than I thought if three Grey Wardens were having such a difficult time with it. They seemed fine once everyone actually began eating, and one even offered that it was "far better than it looked." Of course, he earned himself another smack from the woman in the group who apologized to me. I waved it off, not actually insulted. I'd been worried they would find it inedible since I wasn't quite sure our kitchen staff could manage anything else. Even Nathaniel had seemed amused by the comment.

We gathered in my sitting room after the meal. Although Nathaniel and I had an office downstairs now, this room located in the middle of the row of the senior Warden's bedrooms was far more comfortable in addition to being more private. Downstairs people would have seen us all go in and lock the door, leading to endless gossip. That was the last thing I needed.

After I caught Alain up on the older information he looked thoughtful. "This sounds like the same Architect the Wardens of Orlais encountered with your King Maric," he said.

"It is," I said. "We have his notes and journals. One mentions the incident."

"You were recruited by Duncan, yes?" I nodded. "You know, he was one of the few survivors of that." He must have seen the shock on my face and nodded. "Apparently it was Duncan who killed the First Enchanter that had been working with the monster, only months after he became a Warden. They say he saved King Maric as well, that was part of the reason the order was restored so soon after. It was before my time, of course, but since he had just been named Commander here in Ferelden around the time of my Joining it was on everyone's lips. Duncan had made quite the name for himself back then, between that and becoming commander at such a young age. Youngest ever, they said." He smiled at that, I got the feeling he might have known him.

"I had no idea," I said. "How old was he? When he became Commander, I mean? I only know he had been in Ferelden since the order was welcomed back."

"Six and twenty," he said.

"Maggie was younger," Anders said, sounding surprisingly proud.

"I've heard people say that, but no one seems to know your actual age," he said.

"Circle mage," I said by way of explanation. "But, best I can tell, I was around five and twenty when I became commander. Since I don't have a true birthday I just use the date of my Joining."

"Fitting," he said. "But, I'm sure you have more to talk about than history."

"Right," I said. "The first Warden to meet the Architect… not the group Duncan was with, but the man they went after."

"Warden Commander Bregan," he supplied.

"Yes," I said. "Well… apparently he was given a similar offer to ours- to help the Architect free the darkspawn from the call of the Old Gods." He nodded. "Anders has been slowly going through the Architect's papers. Trying to study them, learn more of his magic and darkspawn magic in general, find a way to counter it or adapt it for our own use. He found something disturbing yesterday…"

"Bregan… took the deal," Anders said. "He told him everything. How we do the joining, all our secrets, everything. He told him where the Old Gods were… all of them. The Architect got to one of the Old Gods… tried his experiment on it." Anders made a face, looking angry. "His touch alone was enough to corrupt it. That's why the blight came without the usual warning signs."

"He triggered the blight…" Alain said. I nodded and he spit out a string of what I assume were very colorful curse words in Orlesian. "Bregan is _lucky_ to be dead already," he finally said, lightning crackling around a clenched fist. Looking down, he shook his hand and offered us an embarrassed shrug.

"You know, as bad as all this sounds," Anders said, obviously artificial cheer in his voice, "just wait… it gets _worse_. The journal doesn't list where the Old Gods are," he said. "Only that he knew, and that he told his most trusted disciples."

"The same disciples who were hunting us, and have now completely disappeared," I said. "We don't know if the survivors are the ones he told, but the information we do have makes it clear they want to continue his work. They're avoiding us so they _can_ continue his work."

"This… is very bad," Alain said. "This is very, very bad. I don't even know the word in your language for _how_ bad this is."

"I don't know if there _is_ one," Nathaniel said. "We tried to come up with some kind of plan. Best we could think of would be to go there first, either attack on a huge scale to get through the darkspawn to the Old Gods and kill them before they get corrupted, or watch and wait, and kill them as soon as the darkspawn uncover them."

"Either way would be a suicide mission for hundreds of Wardens, perhaps more," he said grimly. "And… there is another question." We all waited for him to continue. "Maggie and… Oghren, was it? You have seen the archdemon, seen it up close. No one else can claim that. You've both also fought high dragons. Do you think…" he made a face, clearly not wanting to finish his statement. "To be blunt, I don't believe the Chantry. Old Gods, magisters, none of it... I think it's a story they use to keep people like us," he gestured to himself, then Anders and I, "under their control. I say they're high dragons, corrupted as any animal can be. Having seen both, what do you think?"

"Honestly," I said, "I don't know. It looked like a high dragon. I don't know how smart high dragons are, but I've seen one that was able to communicate, or at least understand, people in some way. It was being worshiped by a cult near the shrine to Andraste's ashes. Personally… part of me wonders why we don't have more blights if it's just a high dragon, since they're rare, but not _that_ rare. I've killed more dragons and drakes than I can count, and two true high dragons, all in the last five or six years."

"But people _thought_ the dragons were gone, for years," Sigrun said. "Even my people believed that, and they generally live underground most of the time. Right after they reappeared a blight began. Only thirty years later."

"Yes," I agreed. "I've always thought there was a chance either option could be true, or both. I think we have to consider the possibility that it's just a dragon, but no one will know for sure unless we have three more blights."

"Sure looked like a dragon," Oghren said. "Fought like a dragon, sounded like a dragon. My armor wears like it was normal dragonbone." He shrugged. "Aye, it might just be another dragon. I can believe that."

"Do you know where the Old Gods are?" I asked him. "The man who did… Bregan, he was Commander of Orlais. Is that information you've all been given?"

"Not exactly," he said. "I know generally where they are, but not… map directions. There was one south of Ferelden, beneath the uncharted territories. Another is somewhere under the Waking Sea, and the third deep below the Sea of Ash west of Orlais, on the far side of the Gamordian Peaks." He sighed. "They are not in caverns off the Deep Roads or anything we can reach. I've sent expeditions to the one closest to me, there are no tunnels. If it is true, the beast is surrounded by miles of solid rock."

So much for the only plan we could think of.

"Since the blight began near the Korcari Wilds I think it's safe to say the one south of Ferelden was the last archdemon encountered," I said. "But, I still have no idea what we can do with this information."

"This may change little," Nathaniel said after a long silence. "They already hear the call of the old gods, or dragons, or _whatever_. I've always believed that to mean they can sense them, as we can sense darkspawn. If that's the case, they know where they are already, at least as clearly as any of us do."

"True," I agreed. "And there's nothing we can do regardless. We can't very well send an army to the bottom of the sea looking for caverns and tunnels." I sighed. "We may have to focus on finding the disciples who remain and taking them out." I sighed, shifting in my seat and leaning against Anders. "Good we had a chance to tell you, regardless. Everyone should all be aware of this."

"I agree," he said. "There are enough secrets we keep from others, there shouldn't be so many between Wardens."

Everyone eventually drifted back to their own rooms, Alain insisting his was very nice, and swearing he didn't need anything. "I was expecting barracks," he said. "Very few have private rooms in our compounds."

I shrugged. "The one thing we have a lot of in Ferelden is space." He wished us goodnight and left.

"I really hoped he'd come up with some solution for us," Anders admitted when we were alone.

"Me too," I said.

"Although I suppose the hour you spent talking to the painting last night after we found out wasn't _completely_ misguided. Shame it couldn't answer, maybe Duncan would have had some advice. You know, if he was here and not a _painting_."

"I… was not," I said, blushing.

Anders laughed, wrapping his arms around me. "Hey, I prefer that to thinking you were babbling away to yourself."

* * *

_Thanks for reading. And reviews? They're like crack to me_


	40. The secrets would go without saying

"It's funny," Anders was saying as we were curled up in bed. "I expected the Orlesians to be… different."

"Different how?" I asked. It was morning, but we had been awake for some time. One of my nightmares startled us both from sleep before dawn. His attempts to comfort me ended up turning into an attempt to see if he could make me scream louder than my nightmare had. As usual, Anders had shown he was successful at most anything he put his mind to.

"I don't know," he said, "like, more _official_."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I agreed. "I kind of feel like we're all doing our best to act like Wardens, but the order everywhere else just _are_ Wardens."

"Yes, exactly," he said. "Just as well. If they got here and thought we were all idiots it would have been embarrassing."

"True enough," I said, climbing out of bed. Since we were training today I wore my armor and added all my weapons. Anders did the same. He had an early prototype of one of Master Wade's armored mage robes on, it was mostly dragonwing, which was very light, and a very fine chainmail. It had been dyed to look more like standard mage robes as well. "What do you think of that?" I asked.

"Not bad," he said. "I think it might work better if he did it more like the enchanter robes are cut instead of the Tevinter, with sleeves. I let him know, he's trying that for Dermott or Aidan's"

"Mine's not done yet," I said. "He's working on something _special_." I flared my hands out just as Wade did when he told me and giggled, not quite sure what that could mean from him.

"I can only imagine," Anders said. "You're his favorite person here, he went on and on about how no one challenges his creativity like you do." Anders laughed. "I don't think his partner likes you much, though."

"He's always like that," I said.

Breakfast was already underway when we arrived. I could hear them from halfway across the keep. I suppose anytime you stick so many people in one room that will happen. The voices were joined by barking, and both of our puppies started to get more excited the closer we got to the dining hall. I suppose we were giving our guests the true Ferelden treatment. We slipped in quickly and took seats at our table with Nathaniel and Sigrun.

"Rose was looking for you," Sigrun said. "She said she stopped by your room to but the two of you… were _discussing magic_." I laughed at that. It had become Sigrun's favorite euphemism since Anders and I used it as an excuse when we got caught pawing each other in the dining hall ages ago. "She and Roland wanted permission to go into town for a bit."

"That's fine," I said. "Overnight?"

"I think so, she said he offered to take her to a dance." Sigrun turned around and gestured to Rose, who clapped her hands and grinned.

I glanced over at Anders. "You never take me dancing."

He snorted. "Sure, next time we're not out traveling, or currently dealing with preventing the end of all life in Thedas I will take you to the _best_ barn dance in Amaranthine. Sound good?"

"Perfect," I laughed. "So, a couple years from now then?"

"If we're lucky," he said, joining my laughter with his own.

Mal approached me at one point, nervously asking if he could try for a dog, assuring me repeatedly that if we were going by seniority he would understand. The anxious demeanor combined with his extensive, and somewhat frightful, tattoos was actually slightly disarming. "I've always heard your people were expert houndsmen," I said.

He nodded. "That is what they say. Every warrior has his dog, they are like a part of our family." He shrugged. "I'm more accustomed to hounds, but of course I've heard much of mabari, our chief had one."

"You will _love_ working with a mabari. They're brilliant. Go ahead, talk to the kennel master." I had another thought then. "And if you know much about kaddis let me know, we should talk about it. Anders and I aren't bad at enchantments, I understand they work similarly. I'd love to see if we could develop a pattern that gave the dogs added protection against darkspawn. Maybe next week?" He agreed and thanked me profusely before taking off, walking very fast in the way someone who wants to run but feels like they shouldn't does. Straight for the kennels, I suspected.

"Awesome," I said when he was gone. "Who cares if the Ash Warriors won't help with kaddis, how could I forget they got them from the Avvar in the first place."

"I didn't think he ever smiled," Nathaniel said as he ran off. "He looked like a kid on First Day."

"I should have thought of it sooner," I said. "I knew the Avvar loved dogs, I just never made the connection. Having him work without one… might as well have tied an arm behind his back." I shook my head.

After breakfast Anders and I went into the new practice room with the Orlesian mages. "Do any of you have a weapon preference?" I asked.

"Actually, we've all trained with blades," Alain said. "I insist on it."

"Me too," I said. "This should be easy for you then." I went over the special enchantments we had on our weapons, which I also wrote out for him. "I found a sword using them in an old ruin, but I've had it duplicated on my daggers by a tranquil, and a smith in Orzammar was able to write out the specific process for me so we could do it ourselves. You can cast while still holding a weapon this way." Anders explained the spells while I demonstrated. He was in the tower long enough to learn how to teach spells, so I figured he would be the best choice. Once I cast the first spell I went over to Anders and wrapped my arms around his legs, lifting him off the ground easily. It would have been easier if I was taller, but the other mages were still surprised by how little effort it took.

Most of the day was spent just working on getting the spells down, with a break for lunch. We all sat down to rest after demolishing several of our practice dummies. The dummies were smoking and shattered in a corner. I glanced over, deciding I would need to determine a sturdier way to make them that could stand up to magic. "That's the magic part of it," I said.

"Just that simple?" Marguerite said.

"Pretty much," I said. "It's tough to put into writing since the spells are so different from what the Chantry allows the Circles to teach, and because no one knows the written Elven language anymore, but when you see someone doing it in person and hear it out loud it's easy." I explained the phylactery I'd found that taught me how to use the spells. That led to a discussion about the Chantry.

"Do they give you trouble?" Anders asked.

"Not really," Alain said. "We have an unspoken understanding. Whenever we recruit someone out from under the templars I get an angry letter from some Revered Mother, to which I respond that the Warden in question has been reassigned to Weisshaupt. When, you know, they may be in Jader, or Val Royeaux, or whatever. Which they know, of course, but it's all formality."

"Must be nice," I said. I'm sure I sounded bitter. Maker knows I _felt_ bitter. "

"I'm sure the Divine would be not so understanding if she knew how many of us were maleficar," Laurent said.

"Well, I will make sure to not invite her the next time we fight the darkspawn," Alain replied with a shrug. "How would they know? They do not watch us fight, and we certainly don't run through the halls muttering and bleeding on everything."

"It does not matter," Marguerite said. "The templar assume that every mage beyond their reach is maleficar. They would love nothing more than to kill us all." She shrugged. "Going into town, dressed in robes with my staff, it is great fun. When they walk towards me and stop, seeing the griffon? Nothing better!"

"Isn't it?" I agreed. "I love when they try and scare me," I added, telling them about the templars who came to the keep before we went to Denerim. "That might have worked when I was younger but now I _know_ I'm much more frightening than they are. But, of course, Nathaniel has rather strong opinions on the subject of actually _killing_ templars, so we've cut down. I just scare them away by threatening to conscript them. Or I recruit them outright." I laughed. "I suppose I really can't wonder _why_ the Chantry was so against me."

"The ones we killed _did_ all deserve it," Anders added. "Not just from a 'they wanted to hang me' point of view, either."

"Things should be fine now," I said. "I got a letter from the new Grand Cleric. A lot of flowery talk about putting the animosity of the past behind us, a new era of friendship between the Chantry and the Wardens, things like that. She did apologize for her predecessors. She very subtly and delicately hinted that they were both completely sodding insane. Which, of course, was true."

Having four people express disbelief simultaneously in two languages was a new experience for me.

"Of course I'm not taking her at her word," I said. "I'll just wait and see. I can't very well write back and say 'liar!' can I?"

"You're fortunate, in a way," Alain said. "In Orlais, if the Chantry wanted to make trouble for us, they could very easily. The Empress, she would not stand against the Divine."

"Do you think Weisshaupt would ever do anything to help?" I asked. "If it came to that? An order for templars among the Wardens, attempts to arrest mages as apostates, something of that nature?"

"Possibly," he said. "I suspect they would simply tell us to fight, though. Perhaps, if we are lucky, they would send reinforcements." He thought for a moment. "Or they would just send us all to Tevinter. You know they do not care who is a mage. Almost every Warden in the Imperium is a mage."

I nodded. "I think we could take on a substantial number of templars." He raised an eyebrow at that. "They're good… but not great. We have a former templar among us, and he's a good warrior, but he's gotten much better since he started training with us. The men we got who were knights in Denerim are better. None of them hold a candle to Oghren, though, even when he's too drunk to stand straight. But Orzammar warriors are a class to themselves."

"They don't have to be great," Anders said. "They don't fight other warriors, they only have to be good enough to take down a mage… and they have other tricks to use for that." He shrugged. "So they basically have to be good enough to take down an exhausted, aching unarmed person."

"Exactly," I agreed. "I thought they must have been phenomenal, going by Alistair, who is probably even better than Oghren in a fight. But I suspect Alistair spent far more time training than praying when he was learning to be a templar, and he did spend six months with the Wardens before I met him. Other templars… I haven't been so impressed."

"_We_ never get to fight templars," Laurent said, casting a pointed glance at Alain.

"Because the templars in Orlais have long since learned they should avoid the Wardens," he replied crisply. "Here, perhaps… they are still teaching them that lesson."

"We don't _look_ for them," I said by way of agreement. "Alistair and most of the upper levels of nobility are on our side, if I _started_ fights with templars that wouldn't last. Sometimes, though," I shrugged, "it can't be helped."

"So, what else did you get in the mail," Anders asked. "I thought I saw a letter from Alistair in there."

I groaned. "There was," I agreed. "He wanted to know where his father's sword was."

"Why would you know that?"

"Because I had it for ages," I said. "I found it at Ostagar when we went back, same place I found Duncan's weapons. I offered it to him, and he was on his 'I'm the bastard son of a maid, I'll never be king, that man was nothing to me' kick, so he said no."

Anders shook his head. "Not want to be king… I don't understand him sometimes. So, where is it now?"

"Nowhere I can get to," I answered quickly.

"Which is?" Anders prodded, obviously curious.

I shrugged. "Maybe… Weisshaupt?"

"How did the blade of King Maric end up at Weisshaupt?" Alain asked, looking confused.

"Because when Alistair ditched us to pout I got mad and might have, um, given it to Loghain. And he used it to kill the archdemon. And I guess it's in his big grand tomb there." Anders stared at me for a moment before his eyes crinkled up. A second later he burst out laughing.

"I can't _believe_ you did that," he finally said, between fits of laughter. Even Alain and Laurent were laughing, and Marguerite looked close to it.

"What?" I said. "They were best friends. I thought he would appreciate it. He actually _smiled_ when I gave it to him. A real smile! And then he said 'I can still remember the day he found this sword in the Deep Roads. I'm... surprised. Thank you.' For Loghain that was like the equivalent of bursting into tears! He told me the story! I had to _beg_ him to tell me stories, and he told me that one without even being asked!"

"So what will you tell Alistair?"

I made a mock-innocent face. "Oh… I remember that sword. It was _really _nice. I haven't seen it since the blight ended, though. _Tons_ of stuff got lost after. Shame you didn't take it when I offered it to you."

"You're horrible," Anders said, still laughing.

"Well, he deserves it, since there was also this." I reached into my pocket and fished the letter out, passing the second page to Anders.

"A drawing?" he said, confused. "The king sent you a picture he drew? Of both of you and _Loghain_?"

"He didn't draw it," I said. "It's… Eamon's idea. They want to do something for the fifth anniversary of the blight ending. It's in, what, a year and a half?" I should have expected this, but it took me by surprise. For more reasons than one. "A few nobles wanted a statue honoring the Wardens, for in front of Fort Drakon. Alistair was pushing for Duncan but, well, no one knew who he was. So then he pushed for one of just me."

"Oh, like you'd stand for that," Anders said, chuckling.

"Which Eamon told him. So then it became both of us. I guess the crown is… artistic license."

"And Loghain?"

"He _did_ kill the archdemon," I said. "Not including him would have been petty. And half the nobility would have a fit. So would I." I glanced over at the paper. "Alistair added the horns himself, I'm sure they won't be on the finished product. Unless he sneaks out to put them on every night."

Anders passed the sketch around. "They have you in the center," Alain said. "Surprised it is not the king."

"I don't think even a _statue_ of Alistair would be willing to stand so close to Loghain," I said. "He sent it asking for my approval."

"They have you dressed like a warrior," Marguerite said, sounding disapproving.

"Not thrilled about that, either," I said. "My letter back said if they want me there to smile and wave I'll be shown wearing robes and holding a staff, otherwise I'm not leaving Amaranthine."

"Good," she said, nodding. "Let history remember it was a mage."

"Exactly," I agreed. I liked her. I wondered if she realized her name was the Orlesian version of my name, but didn't quite know how to point that out without sounding silly.

"You know, you two have the same name," Anders said. I glanced over at him, wondering once again if he really could read my mind.

* * *

The next morning I showed the Orlesians where some of the dogs were being trained. They were either impressed watching the mabari puppies leap at the training dummies, bringing them down by the neck, or did a good show of being polite.

"Since you all have weapon training already I figured… why not have some fun?" I said, grinning.

"Fun?" Alain said, sounding confused.

"She means killing things," Anders supplied.

"Well, it's been _ages_," I said by way of protest. Other than a few of the typical small bands of darkspawn reported in the area we hadn't encountered them since our last recruitment mission.

"Lead on, then," Alain finally said, getting over his amusement.

After dropping the puppies off at the kennel I shouted to Aidan, who was sitting under a tree reading a book I'd loaned him. He hopped to his feet, walking over to us. "What do you need, boss?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and he snickered at that.

"Can I bore you for a little while?" I asked. "They already have weapon training so we were going to head into the Deep Roads for a bit. I need a couple people to watch the barrier door, make sure nothing sneaks past us."

"Sure," he said. "I can read just as easily there."

"Don't get so engrossed I come back to find an ogre browsing through our armory," I warned.

"Don't worry," he laughed. "We don't have anything that would fit one of those, anyways." I shook my head and walked towards the basement entrance. I had opted to have the small building replaced with a heavily reinforced door set right into the ground, double locked. Nathaniel and I had keys to the top lock, the rest of the senior Wardens to the bottom, just to discourage anyone with quick hands from getting too curious, not only because of the Deep Roads entrance, but also because our entire supply of archdemon blood and the lyrium pilfered from Kal'Hirol were both stored in the basements. The lyrium we could replace, I'd made a deal with Orzammar directly for regular deliveries without going through the Chantry. Archdemon blood? Not so easy. We trusted each other, of course, but forcing any would-be thieves to rob two separate people made it all the safer.

Aidan grabbed someone else, an elven rogue with the improbable combination of dalish tattoos and the name Rowan, to guard with him. Once Anders and I unlocked the door we headed down the stairs. I called to Sigrun at the last moment, she looked up from the group she was observing and waved an acknowledgement.

"I never bothered to have most of this repaired," I said by way of apology as we passed through the charred rooms at the first level below ground. "Seemed a waste of money. It's sound, just ugly."

"Makes sense," Laurent said. "The damage above ground must have been extensive."

"Took more than a year, and a couple hundred workmen, just to get the Keep back to normal. They say it'll be another three, maybe four, years for the rest of the property. I've got dwarves working on the walls, though. That adds a year right there." Several human stonemasons from the area had approached me about repairing our walls, offering to have them done- with the expansion I wanted, in just two years. I had politely turned them all away. If they were done to Orzammar standards from the beginning they wouldn't have needed such massive repairs when I arrived here. More of the same didn't seem like a good idea. As it was, most of the other workmen were annoyed by how exacting I'd been about the work. They wanted to use more modern methods, which would have been easier and faster. I insisted on everything being done as it was originally, other than the cosmetic changes. The Avvar built a fortress that was nearly a thousand years old, with no sign of needing to be retired any time soon. I wouldn't be the one remembered for replacing it all with shoddy workmanship that required constant fixing.

"Worth it, though," Anders said. I nodded in agreement.

The wards on a door glowed as we passed by. "Don't worry," Anders said. "It should recognize all of us as Wardens."

Aidan inspected it briefly. "Holding up nicely," he said with a proud nod.

"You do good work," I said and he beamed. "We should do the top door, too."

"And if we were not Wardens?" Laurent asked.

"Pray to be fireproof," Aidan replied with a grin. "It's a two part ward. First it paralyzes, then it burns."

His eyes widened, obviously impressed. "You devised this?" Aidan nodded with pride. "When we are done here would you have time to discuss it?"

"Sure," Aidan said.

"I think we could find use for such a ward at home."

"We could," Alain agreed. "It would be nice to have extra protection for our archdemon blood, but also the lyrium and other valuable items. And the secrets, of course. But we are Wardens, the secrets would go without saying, of course."

"That was the first thing we used it on," I said, laughing. "Always with the secrets."

"It's useful, though," Aidan mused. "Sorry girl I met in a tavern, I know I said I'd write, but, well, Warden secrets, you know how it goes…" he laughed, earning a punch in the arm from Rowan.

Laurent laughed at that. "I have used the same excuse myself," he said. "Always works! Especially when they talk of marriage."

"Speaking of," I said, turning to glare at Aidan. "I've had to deal with _two_ angry fathers this month and Nathaniel had an angry husband to send off. Are you trying to set a new record?"

"…maybe?" he said after a moment. "Sorry, I'll stop telling them where I live."

"Please do," I said. I suppose I couldn't complain, his life was his own and at least he kept his philandering outside the order. It would get touchy if we had to deal with romantic rivalries among the Wardens. Everyone seemed to figure that one out on their own, thankfully. What few people I'd noticed pairing off seemed to be fairly serious, not simply flings, at least, as far as I could tell. With all the hand-holding and cute nicknames some of them used it was enough to make my teeth ache. I had no idea if that was typical fling behavior for twenty year olds. Maker knows we never wandered around holding hands and cooing to each other in the tower.

"Name your dog yet?" Aidan asked, changing the subject.

"Actually, yes," I said. "Isolde."

Anders snickered, but Aidan looked confused. "Where'd you get that?"

"It's actually very clever," Anders said. "I was surprised."

"She's named after Chancellor Eamon's wife," I said. "You know, since they're both bitches." I giggled. "Don't tell Eamon I said that, though. And the puppy approves, at least."

"Much better than her first pick, which was rejected by both dogs, _and _got her a bite on the leg," Anders added.

"Shut up, it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Mags, you wanted to name her _Barkspawn_. That's _horrid_."

"I thought it was clever," I said. Anders rolled his eyes, grinning at me as he started down the ladder. I didn't see where he got off teasing me. It wasn't any worse than _Ser Barks a lot!_

Anders and I quickly managed the crank to the barrier door, watching all three swing open. I checked the innermost door, as usual. It didn't seem to be any more scratched or damaged than the last time we were down here. Well, no, than the time before. The _last_ time we were down here I was far too busy making some dramatic life-risking statement to pay attention to the condition of the door. I couldn't stop myself from glancing over at the place where Anders had been lying on the ground, slowly bleeding to death, when I arrived. He caught me staring and put an arm around my shoulder. "Everything's fine now," he whispered. "Don't think about it. I certainly don't want to."

"That could be our motto," I said, laughing grimly. "Grey Wardens: Just don't think about it. We certainly don't want to."

"Especially down here," he said. "It's dark down here. And heavy. And dark. It's like I can feel the whole Keep pressing down on us."

"Hey now, you're breaking the don't think about it rule," I said.

He laughed at that and we warned Aidan and Rowan to watch for darkspawn before setting off. "If you need us start screaming, I'll try and stay close enough to hear."

I closed my eyes and tried to pick something up. I noticed the others were doing the same. "That way," Alain and I said at almost the same time. Taking the western branch of the road I looked for signs of recent activity. I was constantly nervous about the darkspawn moving closer to our barrier.

I cast the spells I used for battle so I wouldn't get taken by surprise. Shields, arcane warrior, enchanting our weapons with frost. I had been using them in combination for so many fights, over so many years, that the gestures and words ran together, one after another. It was almost difficult for me to stop and sense where one spell ended and the next began. Everyone around me was doing the same thing. I suddenly realized I'd never fought in a group composed entirely of mages. Mages with weapons, most wearing armor, of course, but mages none the less. I suppose if anyone had to do the 'stand up front, make a lot of noise, and attract attention' bit Oghren normally did so well it could be me.

"Will you be the Oghren today?" Anders asked.

"Maker's breath, how do you keep doing that?" I said, glancing over at him.

"What?" he replied.

"The moment I think something you say it out loud. How?"

Anders shrugged. "I know you. You've got your battle-plan face on. Normally you make that face and say 'Anders, keep your ass back behind the line since you're wearing robes and we can't heal the healer,' then you'd tell an archer to cover me, send someone to target the ogres and emissaries, and finish it with 'Oghren, be Oghren.' Without him you're the closest we have to a dwarven berserker."

"Now there's a scary thought," I said.

"_You're_ scared? _I'm_ the one who sleeps next to you. Every time I wake up at night and look over I think 'She looks so peaceful. How could someone so pretty keep turning into a snarling maniac that curses like a sailor without warning?' I'm always afraid that part will take over permanently, and some day I'll wake up to find you drunk and ripping the Keep apart with your bare hands!" I poked him in the ribs, laughing, as we walked further into the deep roads. I was starting to sense more darkspawn around, but no large groups in our immediate area.

"Oh, this isn't good," Anders said. I turned to see what caught his attention. Just ahead of us an enormous new cavern had been dug into the wall.

* * *

_Thanks so much for the reviews. Reading them makes me want to write more, knowing people out there are following this and enjoying it. _


	41. Do you send out secret signals to them?

I examined the cave opening. "Natural cave in?" Anders asked. I glanced up at him. "No, didn't think so," he admitted. "Just… hoping for the best."

"Let's leave it for now," I said. I wasn't getting a sense of darkspawn from it, and didn't want to go too far in. "We should have a scout with us when we explore it. I want Nathaniel with us."

"Not Mal? Nathaniel says he's the best scout we have."

I shook my head. "I want this kept quiet for now until we have a better idea of what it is. That, and Mal can barely sense the darkspawn yet." I made a face, stepping back. "They're burrowing here, right below us. That's not good. Maybe they're being pushed further east as Orzammar reclaims territory in the west but…" I shrugged. "Seems unlikely. I just want to know what the situation is before everyone else knows."

"You think they'll panic?" Anders asked. "I don't think you're giving everyone enough credit." I glanced up at him, glad his streak of mind-reading seemed broken. Panic was the _last_ worry on my mind.

"No," I said. "They're Wardens, they won't panic. Go a bit nuts and try to be a hero, though… that's a possibility. I don't need a bunch of people without much experience clamoring to get down here and fight." I cast a grease spell in the tunnel and dug through my pack. "Give me a second, I want to know if they start using this tunnel." I quickly stretched a tripwire and cobbled together a rough fire trap. "I stink at traps, so let's hope that works."

"So this is new?" Laurent asked.

"Last few months, at least," I said. "This whole stretch was actually really intact until now." I became more nervous as we continued on. Half a dozen other tunnels spotted the walls, irregular in size and interval. I didn't even have any more trap triggers with me to set those up.

"Ahead," Alain said suddenly. "Thirty, perhaps forty. Nothing excessively dangerous." I must have made a noise showing I was impressed. I had barely started to register the direction, much less the makeup of the group. "I have been a Warden much longer than you," he reminded me, chuckling.

"I know," I said. "I'm just used to being the first to sense them. Kind of nice I don't have to be as on guard." I pulled out my daggers, wanting to run ahead. It had been more than a month since we'd gotten in a real fight. I was starting to feel rusty.

"How many?" Laurent said suddenly. "I will go with… hm… eight."

"Seven, at least," Marguerite replied.

"Ten," Alain said. "I want to be fair, of course.

"How many what?" I said.

"How many will you kill, of course," Laurent said.

I laughed. "I'll try and stop at ten," I said. "I make no promises, though, so work fast."

"I'll be happy with eight," Anders said. "Because if I kill more than Maggie does she'll have me back down here for a rematch, and I really don't want that."

"What is your record?" Laurent asked. "Mine is thirty seven. Tower of flame spell."

"Sixty three," Alain said. "Same spell, but with blood magic to paralyze them first."

"How I kill _any_ with these two fighting for numbers I'll never know," Marguerite said. "No wonder I can't top twenty five."

"Fifty-ish?" Anders said. "Not sure. I was pretty lyrium addled at the time."

"Architect?" I said. "One of those towers?" he nodded.

"Fifty six, I think," I told him. "I figured you'd want to know so I counted."

"Well, Hero of Ferelden? I'm quite curious," Laurent said, chuckling.

"You sure you want to know?" I teased right back.

"Oh? Avoiding the question? Now I'm curious, too," Alain said.

I shrugged. "You asked," I warned them. "Eighty four, but I'll never come close to that again, though. It nearly killed me. Force field, blizzard, and then a blood magic spell I found in an old Tevinter book I'd highly recommend _not_ using. Unless you really like the idea of spending half a week bedridden and delirious."

"She's not kidding there," Anders said, giving me another dirty look.

"Well, it'll never happen again," I promised once more. "Here they come," I said as I could start to hear the darkspawn on the road ahead of us in the dark. "I'll play loud, obnoxious warrior," I said, darting ahead of the group.

"This should be interesting," I heard someone say behind me, either Alain or Laurent.

"It usually is," Anders agreed with them.

"Come on you bastards!" I screamed, jumping up and down in the deep roads. I was staying within the confines of an area with functional lava channels so we could see to fight. "Come on! Come on! Come on! You want the Warden witch? Here I am!"

I couldn't help but laugh as the darkspawn started to run faster, howling in rage as they barreled towards us. As angry as they sounded, there couldn't have been more than thirty five of them. I reached out, freezing the first that arrived before quickly killing them. "Three," I sang out as I ran deeper into the small horde. I could hear others calling out numbers as we worked our way through the darkspawn. I heard Alain call out 'ten' and stopped myself when I hit the same number, I figured it would be polite to let the guests have more of them. It wasn't long before the five of us were drenched in blood, surrounded by their bodies.

"That was so… easy!" Marguerite said with shock. "It was like cutting through butter, I've never felt so strong."

"Isn't it great?" I said, wiping my daggers off before I replaced them at my hips. I kicked one of the fallen genlocks in the head as we passed by them. "Dig up my basement, will you?" I snorted. We headed back towards the Keep, still sensing the proximity of darkspawn.

"Maggie," Alain said quickly.

"Where?" I asked. I couldn't get more than a vague sense yet. Aidan started hollering for us before he could answer. We took off at a run, I started to pick out what we could expect the closer we got. I was moving too fast to get a clear sense. I could tell there was an ogre, but I didn't think we'd find any emissaries. "On our way," I screamed so Aidan would know we could hear him.

"Hurry!" he replied, I could hear the sound of metal on metal already, and feel magic being used. Anders was just ahead of me, he turned the corner and cursed loudly. That's never a good sign. At his heels, I muttered something similar. There wasn't _an_ ogre. There were three. I froze one immediately, using my blades to climb it so I could kill it quickly.

"Anders, heal Aidan," I said. He had taken a blade to the shoulder and was wearing robes, not armor. I kept my back to them, killing the darkspawn who tried to press forward. "Did any get past you?"

"No, Maggie," Rowan said quickly. She was darting around the genlocks, her blades moving almost too fast to be seen.

Anders went past me, wading back into the darkspawn, so I took that to mean Aidan was safe. He was shooting spells around me so I focused on the ogres, bringing one down while Alain and Laurent worked on the other.

"Where did they come from?" I asked as soon as the darkspawn were down.

"Same direction you did," Rowan provided. Aidan was examining the hole in his robes, making a face.

"I'll be back," I said. "Alain, can you stay with Aidan and Rowan?" I wanted someone at the barrier who would sense more darkspawn before they were on top of them. "Yell if you sense _anything._"

"Good idea," he said, nodding. The four of us set off back into the deep roads. I checked the trap I set earlier, it had been disarmed.

"Figures," I muttered.

"I didn't see any of the evolved darkspawn with them," Anders said.

"How can you tell the difference?" Marguerite asked.

"They paint their faces," I said. "And their armor is more advanced. But," I shrugged, "saw them or not, I've never known normal darkspawn to _disarm_ traps. Even the lousy half-functional traps I make. If it had just failed to go off, well, that's one thing, but it's been disarmed. At least one of them was here."

I thought about that while we walked back to the main group and through the basements. They were after me, and I was _right there_. Not only was I there, I was screaming my idiot head off taunting them. But... they ignored me, and went after the others. Aidan, who was a very capable mage but had been a Warden for less than a year, and Rowan who was so new they might not even register her as a Warden at all.

It didn't make sense. The last time they all but ignored everyone and focused on just the Wardens who had fought the Architect. That was why Anders, Oghren, and Sigrun had been among the only injuries. Although the papers we retrieved did say they were ordered to avoid me, since the few who didn't invariably ended up dead. Perhaps these were not quite intelligent enough to take that as anything but the literal truth, even when I was only feet away? Or, could they have just targeted the weakest group on instinct once whatever Disciple they followed disarmed the trap and sent them on their way?

"Maggie?" Anders said, sounding amused as he waved a hand in front of me.

"What?" I looked up at him.

"Yeah, that's what I figured," he said, shaking his head. "What are your theories? Stick to the top two or three."

"They're working with a Disciple," I said. "The disarmed trap is enough proof for me."

"All right," he said. We had paused at the base of the ladder, everyone was watching me. Even Alain seemed to be waiting for me to provide some kind of answer, judging by his expression.

"He may have disarmed it and sent them off to attack. They avoided us and went for the weakest group." I turned to Aidan and Rowan. "No offense… just, two of you compared to five, and they would have sensed us all from some distance. With Rowan being so new they might have even thought you were alone," I said, gesturing at Aidan.

"Why?" Aidan asked.

"They often pick the weakest target on instinct," Alain said. "But… Wardens are usually the exception. They will go to great lengths to attack us, they're drawn to us."

"The leader now ordered the others to avoid me specifically," I said. "Since I kept, you know, killing them. These don't seem like they've been transformed, though. Maybe they're some kind of failed attempt, so they're just smart enough to follow a really basic order? Or maybe they have a way to control them now, like the Architect and archdemon did?" I shrugged. "Not really sure, I'm just thinking on my feet now. I'd have to try and figure it out." Everyone seemed to be thinking about it as we climbed the ladder. I had a few ideas, but they were all fairly implausible, or would require some kind of confirmation.

"So, is something like that what we can expect when we go to Orzammar for…" Rowan's voice trailed off and she shrugged. We were almost out of the basements entirely.

"I guess," I replied. "I don't really know. I'd strongly recommend you plan on going with someone else who joined when you did, though. I don't like the idea of women going on the Calling alone. I'm not sure if the darkspawn would try to capture a female Warden like they do most women," I shrugged. "I'll be gone by then so I can't make it an order or anything. Just _really_ good advice."

"We do the same in Orlais," Alain added. "I think it is standard procedure everywhere. Women are not so common among the Wardens elsewhere as they are here, though. Most of ours are mages, or were trained as bards. Very few warriors." It made sense. Ferelden was the only place in Thedas where a woman deciding on a life of fighting wasn't looked on as abnormal.

"That's a good idea," she said, looking disgusted. "Will you be going with the king? He joined when you did, right?"

I shook my head. "A few months before me, but no, we're not going together. After his coronation we talked about it. We planned to, but then he became king… so…." I shrugged. "Alistair decided when his time comes he's going to have an, um… accident. Fall off a horse or something, or just get into bed and take a poison they can't detect after. He doesn't like the idea at all, said it felt cowardly, but neither of us could come up with a better one."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking confused. "If he doesn't like it, why not just… go?"

"He's a Warden, but he's also the king," I said. "Simply disappearing would be impossible. If he just snuck off some night and never came back people would suspect foul play, or make the connection to how you never see old Wardens. It could lead to false accusations against someone, maybe even a war, or hurt the order."

"Makes sense," Anders said. "I don't blame him for not liking the idea, it's certainly out of character, but he really is stuck."

Talking about this always made me feel vaguely ill. We made jokes on occasion, sure, but it didn't feel quite as real then. Knowing exactly what waited for me, and discussing it seriously, was more than I could deal with. "I don't know what I'll do yet, everyone else joined three years after me. I don't like thinking about it. I just kind of hope I'll get myself killed up here when I'm close to it."

"We all hope for that," Alain said. "But, even I am not so close I need to worry yet. Better not to think about it until we have no choice. Dwelling is… not healthy."

Everyone agreed with that. Once we returned to the courtyard Anders and I locked the door and everyone went off to get cleaned up and rest. I heard Aidan and Laurent making plans to discuss wards later.

Since I was the gorier of the two of us, as usual, Anders let me use the bath first. "Hurry up," he said as I rinsed my hair. "A bit of genlock just fell out of my hair."

"Ew," I said, climbing out and wrapping up in a towel.

"I know!" he agreed.

After dinner I told the others what we found in the Deep Roads. Rose, Aidan, and the Orlesians sat in on the conversation. "I've got an idea," Anders said.

"This should be good," Oghren laughed. "We making the darkspawn wear dresses, too? I see you got yours back."

"It's not as good as your plan to kill darkspawn using the power of your breath," Anders said. "Especially since you can really only reach to breathe all over the genlocks."

"A height crack?" Oghren said. "C'mon, mage, I know you can do better than _that_."

Anders laughed, shrugging. "Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind now. I'll have something better tomorrow. Not one to talk, though. How many dress jokes have you made?"

"And they never get old," Oghren laughed.

Nathaniel sighed, meeting my eyes. I shrugged. What could I do? He shook his head. "Your idea, Anders?"

"Oh, right," Anders said. "Well, Rose found ghouls in the mines, right?"

She nodded at that. "The woman I had to… take care of, she said they made her drink blood."

"Great!" Anders said, sounding far too cheerful. Everyone turned to him. "Sorry. Not great. I mean that's horrible, but great in that it may prove my theory. So, the Architect, he wanted Warden blood. That's why he captured us."

"But they only took mine," I said.

"We were all fairly new," Anders reminded me. "Nathaniel and I had maybe nine months in, Sigrun even less. They may have just gone for you because the corruption was more concentrated in your blood."

"Okay," I said, waiting for more.

"So, maybe they're trying to _make_ Wardens now since capturing us just ends up killing them. And since they don't have archdemon blood, they can only make ghouls."

"That seems to be the case," I agreed. Rose nodded.

"So, if the Disciples were made by using Warden blood like we would use archdemon blood, maybe they're now using ghoul blood instead? Maybe this makes the ones who attacked us… somewhere between your normal idiot genlocks and hurlocks and a Disciple." He sat back, looking satisfied.

"That's a decent idea," I said. "I can't think of anything better."

"It would explain why they were able to resist the pull of five Wardens so close to them, and target a single Warden, or a pair, instead," Alain said. "Normal darkspawn, they have no self control."

Since the Orlesian group was leaving in the morning I asked everyone to wait a moment while I slipped back into the bedroom, retrieving a wooden box from under the bed.

I carried the box to the table by the fire we all sat around and unlocked it, giving Alain the key. "I asked Master Wade to make these when I found out you were sending people here. From the Wardens of Ferelden to the Wardens of Orlais in thanks and friendship. When we were all but destroyed you were the first who came to our aid, none of us will forget that."

He tried to dismiss me but looked very curious. "A gift is unnecessary," he said. "You are our brothers and sisters, helping was the least we could do."

"Well, take it as a sign of friendship, then," I said. "Open it!" He did, gasping at the swords resting inside the box on a velvet backing. I'd had Wade craft a greatsword, a longsword, and two daggers, all made to match.

"These are magnificent," Alain said, lifting one of the daggers. A griffon was carved into the pommel, and the warden oath along the guard. "Is this… dragonbone? It feels different. Heavier."

"It's_ like_ dragonbone," I said. "Sort of."

"What is it?" he said, examining the material closely. "I've never seen anything like it." Laurent and Marguerite each picked up one of the daggers, admiring them and trying to guess the material.

I could see Sigrun putting her hands over her mouth, wanting to explode with the information. "Well, it's a material no one but the Wardens of Ferelden have had access to," I said "for the last four hundred years, at least. Although we have tons of the stuff." That was the truth, crates filled the warehouse behind Wade's shop.

"Four hundred…." He paused, trying to figure out what I was hinting at. Alain gasped. "No! You must be kidding… it's not…"

"Urthemiel," I said, grinning.

"By the Maker!" he said. "I'm holding a blade made from the archdemon's bones?" His hands were shaking at the realization. The other two gasped. I nodded. "This… this is priceless! I can't accept such a gift."

"You can and will, I insist! I hope they find a use slaughtering darkspawn for years to come, long after we're all gone."

"We have one ourselves, made from Dumat's bones," Nathaniel added. "It was given to the Wardens of Ferelden by Weisshaupt when we were restored. That's where we got the idea."

He thanked us profusely, each of them laying the blades they'd picked up back on the velvet lining the case with reverence.

Things returned to normal the next day. We waved goodbye as our visitors left to catch their ship home and I resumed my normal training with the mages. "Will we go in the Deep Roads when this is done?" one asked me.

"Maybe," I said. "We found some new tunnels yesterday, I want them scouted and mapped before we take anyone down there for anything." In fact, Nathaniel and Sigrun were leading a group through them as we spoke. It would have to be decided soon, though. Two potential recruits had arrived since the statue was dedicated. Oghren, Caitlin, and Rose were working on testing them for a few days just to buy us some time.

After lunch I worked with Aidan on blood magic for several hours. He was catching on faster than I had. The biggest hurdle was just allowing your mind to see the blood as a source of power. When you learned through a deal with a demon that hurdle was eliminated, but we had to struggle through it.

So far he had managed to tap into that power, but not long enough to actually cast anything. "Here," I said, thinking of something different. "What was the first spell you cast? When you got caught as a mage?"

"Fire," he said. "I set a tree on fire when I fell out while climbing."

I'd been hoping for ice. Ice was fairly nondestructive when you hit inanimate objects. "Let's go on the battlements for this," I said. After finding the first two we checked occupied by archers and another group of mages practicing primal spells we ended up on the western side of the keep. "Focus on fire for now," I said. "Don't bother with wards or anything, just try and cast fire." After a few tries he was able to toss a small fireball at one of the stone walls of the keep.

"Hey!" Aidan said with surprise. "It worked!"

"How are you feeling?" I asked, not wanting to push him to the point of illness.

"Fine," he said. "It's just a tiny cut. I've barely lost any blood."

"All right. Try it again," I said. "When you can cast a fire spell on demand we can move on to something more complex." He tried a few times, still losing the spell on occasion, but managing more often than not. After several successful attempts in a row with fireballs he attempted to call up a blast of flame. I almost cheered when Aidan was successful on the first try. Almost, because halfway through he got distracted and nearly torched me. "Hey!" I said. "You still need to watch where you point that!"

"Sorry," he said, pointing at the road. "Apostate incoming."

I looked out and could vaguely say a very fast dark shape racing towards the Keep. "I can't make it out."

"Humans," Aidan snorted. "There's a reason Loghain used elves as scouts. Better vision. It's a man on a horse and I think he cast haste on it. Almost sure of it, in fact. Hence the 'apostate' bit."

We went down the stairs to wait in the courtyard. I could see the rider was much closer now. Normal peasant clothes, not armor or robes and dark hair. Haste had indeed been cast on the horse, I watched the rider raise a hand to renew the spell when they were almost at us. Roland and Arthur came over, Ronan in tow, to see what was going on. "New blood?" Roland asked. The two warriors had all but adopted the templar, the three were almost inseparable since we returned from Denerim.

"Could be," I said.

"_Another_ mage?" Ronan said, sensing the magic. "Do you send out secret signals to them or something?"

Arthur shrugged. "They're better off here than they are being executed." He had relaxed his anti-mage attitudes dramatically in recent weeks. I suspected the very close friendship he seemed to have formed with Dermott had something to do with that. I was watching their exchange. He poked me in the shoulder and gestured at the road.

As I turned to look I could hear Roland say "Hey Maggie, isn't that…"

I gasped as the rider got closer. "Jowan?"

* * *

_Yeah, I just HAD to end it there, with the arrival of everyone's favorite blood mage. Well, my favorite blood mage, at least. Thank you thank you thank you to my reviewers... with stats broken that's the only way I even know anyone's reading. _


	42. Do they test you on this stuff?

"Maker's breath, it _is_ Jowan," I gasped as the rider was almost to us. I jumped in the air, waving my arms, so he would know we saw him. Isolde, seeing me jump, began to do the same. He was close enough I could see the relief on his face.

He dismounted quickly and ran over to me, all but lifting my feet from the ground when he threw his arms around me. "I can't believe I made it," he finally said, out of breath from the ride and obvious nervousness.

"What's wrong? What happened?" I looked up at him. "Actually, wait, tell me inside." I gestured for someone to stable the horse and brought Jowan into the Keep, shouting for everyone to get back to work as we went in. As soon as we were inside I asked someone to send food and drink to my sitting room and dragged Jowan up the stairs, the puppy at our heels.

"So, um, this is your house?" he said, eyes wide as he took it in. "Big."

"It's not _mine_," I said. "It belongs to the order. We have another castle that's bigger, but it's in rough shape. We're going up in a few weeks to check it out."

"_Another_ castle? You say that like I mention owning another pair of shoes!"

I shrugged. "It's old, been in the order forever but abandoned since we were expelled. Dates back to Commander Asturian." He looked at me blankly. "Glory Age, built just after the second blight."

Jowan gave me a strange look. "Do they test you on this stuff?"

"Maker, no," I laughed. "Jowan, I have people who can't even _read _yet, but we are teaching them. I certainly can't expect everyone to know history, too. It's just something I find interesting." I gave him a pointed glance. "But, you didn't ride here like a maniac for a chat on the history of the Grey Wardens."

"No," he admitted, wringing his hands. It was a nervous habit of his since childhood.

"Jowan," I said, briefly putting my hand over his when he didn't speak after a moment. "It's fine. Tell me." The puppy tried to lick his face, sensing his distress. I ordered her to sit quietly and she complied after whining a bit. "Sorry, still training her," I said.

He nodded. "So, remember Cullen?"

"Of course," I said. "Poor bastard. He went mad, you know?" Seemed a random thing for him to bring up. "Why do you ask?"

"I was in the little town near my farm picking up some things. I just happened to bump into him there, he's a Chantry guard now. He remembers you, you know," Jowan said with a wry grin. "He certainly remembered me."

"Oh no," I gasped.

"So… I rode all night, casting haste and rejuvenate on the horse. I think I have at least half a day on them, maybe a full day." Jowan leaned back on the sofa, groaning as he wrung his hands. "Oh Maker, I can't _believe_ I'm doing this to you again. I'm so sorry, Maggie. I… I didn't know where else to go. You keep telling me to come here if they catch on to me, it was all I could think of." He looked over at me, clearly exhausted and miserable, before standing up. "I should go, I can't do this to you. Not again, not after everything else."

"What?" I said, shocked. "You aren't going anywhere. You think you're the first apostate to walk through our doors?" I made a face at him and shoved him back down on the sofa. "If we can take in complete strangers and offer them a place with us I certainly won't turn _you_ out. Don't be absurd."

"Really?" he said, sounding surprised.

"You ass," I muttered. "Did you think I would? Come on!" I shook my head. "If Nora wants to stay on the farm we can get you a room in the Keep, and you can get leave to visit. You get a stipend but we also provide room, board, and meals, so you could send it all to her. If she wants to move here we have some outbuildings for Wardens with families. You'd be the first, though, so it's pretty quiet."

"I… I have no idea what she'd want," Jowan said. "She doesn't even know I'm here, I didn't want to lead the templars back to them. I'm sure she's worried sick, but I thought if they knew about the baby, they might keep an eye on her and…"

"Got it," I said. I stood up and locked the door. "Look, I'll be honest because it's you, but tell _no one_ about this. I just can't let you go into this blind. With strangers it's so hard, I couldn't do it to you, too."

"Well, this sounds like the start of a very ominous conversation," Jowan said, watching me pace the floor. Isolde jumped up on the couch again and set her head on his lap, looking up. Jowan began to pet her absentmindedly.

"You could say that. So, Wardens. We're… different. We're not knights or anything, it's not a _job _we take, it's something we _become_. There's a ritual. After it we can sense the darkspawn and we can sense each other. So I can't go halfway on this, if you want to stay you _have_ to become a Warden, everyone in the building will know if you're not."

"Mags, I don't want special treatment," Jowan said. "I've asked too much of you already. I wouldn't expect to stay without joining. The thought didn't even occur to me."

"I didn't think so, but I wanted to be sure," I said. "So, the ritual. It's dangerous. Mages tend to fare better than most, so you have that going for you. I _suspect_ a blood mage would fare better still, but I don't have enough proof to back that up. You're under thirty years and you're healthy, so that goes in your favor, too."

"You make it sound like this could kill me," Jowan said. I didn't answer and he swallowed roughly. "Oh."

"Still want to stay?" I asked.

"Yes," Jowan said quickly. "Yes. There's nowhere else for me, I should have known that from the beginning. I've made enough mistakes, and now I've managed to pull another innocent woman into my mess. And a child! Maker's breath, I had a child, what was I _thinking_?" He sighed. "I don't think I'm a bad person, but I keep making such _stupid _mistakes. I should have known my past would catch me, sooner or later. If this is where it ends, well, I've gotten more happiness than I deserved after all the harm I caused. If not… maybe I can eventually do enough good to redeem myself. I mean, fighting darkspawn, that's worthy, right?" He offered me a weak smile.

"I've always thought so," I said. I gave him a hug, before standing back up and walking to a cabinet on the wall. "After dinner you and two other recruits will go into the deep roads, accompanied by a junior member of the order. Since they're after you its best not to wait, I want you to be a Warden when the templars arrive. You can borrow a staff from me, and I think Anders has a set of robes that will fit you. After it's done I can get you some official gear" I took a few sheets of paper, ink, and a pen from the cabinet and returned to Jowan's side. "If you want to write a letter to Nora and Maggie, I'll make sure they get it, if…"

"Thank you," he said softly, taking the paper. "You're a better friend than I deserve." There was a knock on the door, I opened it and took the food and ale from the maid, setting it on the table next to the paper.

"Here, have something to eat, you'll need energy for later. The other door is my bedroom, feel free to take a nap if you want. I'll warn Anders so he doesn't crawl in with you and start nibbling on your neck." Jowan managed a chuckle at that. "I'll leave you alone to write, if you need me go down the stairs, if I'm not in the big main room my office is right off there."

I slipped out and headed downstairs, running into Anders in the main hall. "I just saw Ronan," he said. "He told me some mage just got here, gave you a hug, and then you disappeared with him?"

"Jowan," I said.

"They caught up to him?" I nodded. "Where is he now?" I went into the office, closing the door and leaning against a wall with a sigh.

"Writing a letter to his wife and daughter," I said. "In our sitting room. I promised I'd get it to them if anything happened. He rode all night so he might nap after."

"You told him?"

"I… insinuated." I shrugged. "I had to, I couldn't _not_ say something. I mean, it's _Jowan_."

Nathaniel opened the door, Sigrun at his side. "Good, here you are," he said seeing us. "We got the deep roads mapped out. No nasty surprises. There's darkspawn about, but all small groups. Normal"

"Good," I said. "We'll do the Joining tonight." He raised an eyebrow. "There's a… complication." I caught him up on what I'd already told Anders. "And, well, he left town and came straight here. We've got about a half a day, maybe a full day, until two templars show up on his tail." I sighed. "Oh, and one of the templars _may_ be completely insane. Literally."

Anders sat down, groaning. "Please tell me it's not Cullen."

"Well, I _could_ tell you it isn't, but it would be a dirty lie." He made a face at me, I suppose my joke didn't work to lighten the mood.

"Who's Cullen?" Sigrun asked.

"He was a templar in the tower when Jowan and I were growing up. He had a bit of a crush on me for a few years—"

"He was completely in love with her for ages," Anders said by way of correction. "Everyone knew it. I didn't know it was _her_ specifically, but everyone knew he was in love with one of the apprentices."

Sigrun giggled at that. "Maggie, you heartbreaker!"

"I never encouraged it, believe me," I said. "He was tortured during that mess at the tower. Desire demons tormented him with visions and he snapped. Now he loathes all mages. Says things about how we should be killed as children."

"Specifically, they tormented him with visions of _Maggie_," Anders said. "Visions that probably resembled some of my more memorable and filthy dreams."

"I… see," Nathaniel said slowly, looking at us. "I should stop being surprised by things like this." He sighed. "Let's try and keep the body count to a minimum, we just got over our Chantry troubles."

"Hopefully whoever they have assigned to babysit him has some common sense," Anders said before laughing as if the very idea was absurd. "Yeah, I won't hold my breath. Anyways… Joining!" He clapped his hands together.

"Who should lead them?" I asked.

"Ronan or Mal," Nathaniel said quickly. "Preferably Ronan. He's got more darkspawn experience than the rest of the last batch put together."

"I'll talk to Ronan," I said. "If he's not comfortable with taking Jowan I'll have Mal do it."

Anders went off to make sure Jowan was set up with robes and gear while Nathaniel checked on the other recruits. Sigrun went to hunt down Ronan and send him to the office while I got the Joining prepared.

"Is there something you need?" he asked, knocking on the open doorframe. I gestured at the empty chair by my desk and he sat down.

"Yeah," I said. "So, the mage that arrived earlier?" He nodded. "That's my best friend, Jowan. We've know each other since we were little kids. His daughter's even named after me."

"Arthur said he was a good friend of yours. Is that the blood mage you helped escape, when you became a Warden?" he asked, looking surprised. I nodded. "Wow, he doesn't _look_ like a maleficar."

I rolled my eyes at that. "What are we supposed to look like? Should I be dressed all in black with a giant pointy nose and a wart on the end of it or something?"

"Well… pretty much," Ronan said with a laugh. "What about him? Is he here for a visit? You don't have to worry about me, I know my templar days are over. I can be civil. Perhaps even friendly."

"A bit more long term than that," I said. "They caught up to him so…"

"Ahhh…" Ronan said. "Joining us in the shadows, so to speak?" I nodded and he looked at me more closely. "That would explain why you have the expression of someone who wants to cry or get very, very sick." I didn't think it was that obvious. I managed a halfhearted grin.

"I'm terrified," I admitted. "I think he has a good shot, he's faced darkspawn but barely cast any spells since the blight ended. He's a good mage, and a better teacher than I am, so he'd be a fantastic Warden if he…" I closed my eyes for a second, covering them with a hand. After a few breaths I went on. "Sorry. I'm really not handling this well. Anyways, you know tradition is for a junior member to accompany the recruits to prepare. You've got more experience with darkspawn than anyone else from the most recent Joining."

He took on a defensive posture. "So you're saying that's why you don't want me to lead them? Since the others need more darkspawn time?" he said, looking like he didn't believe me.

"What? No. That's why I wanted to know if you would be willing to go with them." I shrugged. "I wanted to make sure you'd be all right with it since he's a blood mage."

"Really?" he said, brow arched. "You're not afraid I'll go all… templar on him?"

"If I can't trust you with this how could I trust you living under the same roof as I do?" I asked.

"I'll bring them all back safe and sound, Commander," Ronan said, smiling broadly.

"Thank you," I said, feeling relieved. I had fought beside Ronan enough I knew he was more than capable of leading them. I didn't have first hand experience with the others' skills to the degree I did with his.

The recruits sat at our table for dinner that night. The two who had been with us for a few days were excited. I pinched Jowan's leg under the table. "Try not to look like you're marching straight into the archdemon's mouth, would you," I whispered. "You know more than they do since I'm a lousy commander. I'm not supposed to tell people as much as I did you."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should focus on the happy things. So, what's your dog's name?"

I snickered. "Isolde."

"_Isolde_?" He made a face, remembering the woman who had him tortured. Although, to be fair, not entirely without reason. I hated her more for how she treated Alistair as a child. "Ohhh, I get it. Both bitches. That's pretty good!" He chuckled. "You think she and the Bann were, you know…"

"Having _relations_?" I snickered.

"Maker's breath, I phrase something poorly one time and you never let it go. " Jowan rolled his eyes.

"Nah, they weren't. Although I bet she wanted to, Teagan is certainly handsome. He told me her voice went through him a knife."

"You know, I _really_ don't know if I believe that nothing happened between you and the Arl," Anders said.

"He's an Arl now?" Jowan said. I nodded. "And the two of you…" His eyebrows shot up.

"Look, when he said I deserved someone who could take me away from my life of fighting I realized things wouldn't work so I let him down nicely. We're still friends." I shrugged. "I _like_ my life of fighting."

Jowan laughed at that before glancing down at his clothing. "Do you know _how_ long it's been since I wore proper robes?" He ran a hand along the buckles at the waist of the robes Anders had given him. "And the Tevinter kind are my favorite. I love all the pockets." Jowan actually loved everything and anything Tevinter. He was the first person I knew to master reading their language and collected whatever artifacts he could get his hands on.

"Same here," Anders agreed.

"Really nice staff, too." Jowan inspected it. "_Yours is the fury of the elements,"_ he read, translating the ancient Tevinter. "Yeah, that sounds like something Maggie would enjoy. I don't think I've ever had stuff this fancy," Jowan admitted.

"I don't really have anything to spend my money on, so most goes into fancy robes," Anders admitted. "And presents for Maggie. I've got a whole box of them hidden away, ready for whenever I say something stupid."

"You do?" I said. "Where?"

"Like I'd tell you," Anders said. "Then I'd have to go and buy a whole new stash of 'I'm really sorry for the maleficar joke' gifts." He glanced over at me. "Don't even bother tearing our room apart, either. It's not there. You won't find it." I made a face and Jowan snorted.

"You know she's going to try," Jowan said.

"I know," Anders agreed. "I just wanted to make sure she didn't start in our room. Her getting dressed for anything more formal than killing darkspawn already leaves the whole place looking like someone cast a cyclone spell. I'd hate to see what it would look like if she was really _trying_ to rip the place apart."

"She's always been like that," Jowan said. "Her bunk was _never_ made, and she had piles of books about the rebel army or the Wardens just stacked up _everywhere. _If you tried to move anything a bottle of liquor would fall out of hiding."

"I _knew_ there was a reason I liked you!" Oghren said after hearing that.

"So she's _always_ been like this?" Nathaniel asked, looking amused.

Jowan nodded. "You should have seen her the day that Warden arrived in the tower. Even when we were breaking into the basements and sneaking around it was all she could talk about. '_A real Grey Warden! And he talked to me! You know they take mages? You think they'd take me? Wouldn't that be awesome?'_"

"I remember when you were shy," I muttered as everyone laughed. "I miss _that_ Jowan."

"I had to get used to talking to people when I didn't have you around to talk for me anymore," he said, laughing.

Nathaniel stood up as the meal wound down, announcing that there would be a Joining that evening in the main hall for anyone who wanted to attend.

I watched them head down to the basements and made sure rooms were ready. Once that was over I started pacing the floor of the main hall. Anders handed me a glass of wine. "Drink this," he said.

"I'm not getting _drunk_ before a Joining."

"One glass won't make you drunk," he said. "But if you don't calm down someone will have a heart attack. Everyone's sitting here watching you pace." I took the glass and sat down, looking at the small table set up near the front of the room for the chalice.

"How much longer do you think they'll be?" I asked.

"I don't even think they're _at_ the barrier yet," Anders said. "I'll be right back," he added, disappearing up the stairs. He returned not long after carrying a book. "Here, read this to take your mind off worrying."

I looked at the cover, it appeared to be a history of mages in battle. "Oooh," I couldn't help but saying as I opened the book to see an entire chapter was about Wardens.

"I dipped into the present box for that. I hope you appreciate it," Anders said, sitting next to me with a book of his own.

"So… it's upstairs?"

"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I ran upstairs, and down the back stairs to where it is, just to keep you guessing."

"So, downstairs then?" I said, trying to get a hint.

"Maybe I did just go upstairs and get that before coming back," Anders said. "I'm _not_ telling you!" I'd find it eventually. I knew most of his hiding places. I bet Oghren had it hidden for him. He'd tell me if I bribed him with a few drinks.

It was after midnight by the time they returned. I was surprised to see twenty or so Wardens standing in the main hall, waiting for them. The two I didn't know (_Afton and Brendan_, I reminded myself) looked slightly green, but Jowan was actually grinning. I called Ronan into the office while I mixed up the joining. "Well?"

"Afton got sick after he saw them, but held out a long time. Brendan kind of freaked out about just the four of us down there alone. Jowan was fine, though. I think he actually helped calm the others down a bit because of that."

After confirming he remembered what to say we went back into the main hall. Anders, Oghren, Sigrun, and Nathaniel were all in their best equipment, standing at the front of the room. The others, arranged in rough lines throughout the main hall, were equally dressed up. It looked like the entire order had come out for this. I gave my usual speech about the founding of the order and our purpose, as well as how we became Wardens. None of them questioned it when I confirmed they would be drinking darkspawn blood. It wasn't surprising. Most people made the connection on their own when we sent them off to collect it, I disappeared with the blood, and returned with a great big cup of something red and frightening looking.

Ronan began reciting the traditional pre-Joining words and I was struck by how much he reminded me of Alistair years ago. Between the templar-trained cadence and the genuine sincerity he put into each word I couldn't help but remember my own joining. He was halfway through when the doors to the main hall burst open. Two templars stood at the door, staring across the hall through their imposing helmets. Both had swords at the ready.

I almost threw the Chalice in a rage seeing them burst into our home without any warning. If Nathaniel hadn't plucked it from my hand I very well might have. Had the templars arrived any later I would have been deciding if I should conscript or execute them. "Get them," I screamed to the assembled crowd, seething with rage. Before our new visitors could react the entire room surged towards them. The Wardens quickly disarmed both men and held them, waiting for my orders. I was almost tempted to have them killed on the spot, but reason prevailed. Well, slightly. "Throw them in the cells!" I barked out. Almost as an afterthought I added "we'll deal with them after the Joining." I could kill them later, after all... If it came to that, of course. I hoped it wouldn't but, well, it usually did. Over shouted protests the templars were pulled from the room. Both men struggled but found they were no match for a large crowd of enraged Wardens.

They returned after what seemed to be too long to simply throw the men in our small holding cell. Roland and Arthur walked to the front of the room. "The prison guards know they're waiting on you," Roland said. "We took the liberty of removing their armor. Both had additional weapons hidden." That would explain the delay. Smart thinking, though. Better they did that now than I found out when one of them knifed me during interrogation.

"The guards outside the main hall were knocked out," Arthur added. "Both seem fine now, just woozy and embarrassed." Oh _fantastic_, we could add assault to their offences. This wouldn't get complicated, not at all. At least the guards were alive, though, and hadn't been abandoning their duties.

"I'll check on them when we're done here," Anders said.

"Good work," I told both of them.

Jowan was looking nervous again, and now staring at his feet with embarrassment. It seemed clear they were the templars who had been after him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," I said.

"Is this… typical?" Brendan asked me.

"No. Those fools forget their place," Nathaniel said. "They should thank the Maker if they live to see the dawn." All three recruits looked even more nervous hearing that. Nathaniel was clearly on the edge of rage and speaking in the same cold tone he used when we interrogated the spy. Even Sigrun shifted on her feet hearing him, putting her hand on his arm. He managed a small smile. "Well, we should continue before someone else decides they want to interrupt us."

Ronan started over, this time completing the words without another distraction.

I had noticed Brendan flinch when he said "_and should you perish_," and decided he would go first. If someone else fell I didn't want him to panic and try to run. Picking up the chalice I called him forward first.

"Brendan, you are called to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good."

Everyone in the room held their breath, letting it out when he put both hands to his head and groaned before falling backwards. "He lives," I announced, and a murmur of relief went through the room.

Afton was next. He glanced down at Brendan's unconscious form, already struggling against the first dreams, before taking the cup from me with shaking hands. There were sounds of disappointment when he began to cough and clutch at his throat. I looked up and everyone went silent again. "I'm sorry, Afton," I said as I closed his eyes.

When it came time to pass the cup to Jowan both of our hands were shaking. "Just in case I don't have another chance," he whispered, "I want to thank you, for everything." I nodded since I didn't trust myself to speak without crying. Anders reached over and squeezed my hand while Jowan drank from the cup, quickly grabbing it with his free hand before it could fall to the floor.

I looked up from Jowan who was lying motionless near my feet to the assembled Wardens. "He lives!"

* * *

_Awww, I couldn't kill off poor hapless Jowan. Thanks so much for the reviews, it's always nice to know people are reading! _


	43. I, for one, would like a pony

Jowan followed me through the darkened Keep to the armory. Anders was tending to the injured guards, Nathaniel and Sigrun checking the rest of the property to make sure no one else was hurt or hiding. Oghren had joined some of the others for celebratory drinks. "I'm not dead," Jowan repeated, stumbling after me in the dark.

"Nope," I agreed. "I figured you had a good chance. I was still pretty nervous, though."

"I feel bad for the man who didn't. He looked young."

"He _was_ young," I said. "I feel bad for them all. So many don't make it." I lit a torch and began digging through crates and shelves of supplies. The quartermaster was long since asleep, I didn't need to wake him for this. Brendan could see the quartermaster tomorrow, but Jowan arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back, he didn't have anything to _wear_ tomorrow.

"I had a dream of the darkspawn," he said slowly.

"That's normal," I said. "It wasn't really a dream, more of a vision. You actually _saw _them. You'll have more, but the others all learned to block them out eventually."

"But not you?" he asked.

"No, but I don't remember them most of the time. Almost as good." I shrugged. "I talked to the Orlesian commander about that, too. He said his people who joined during the blight have the same problem. I worried I wouldn't know when my time came, but he said they're different then. They stop being scary, become almost… seductive." My lip curled up in disgust at the idea.

Jowan gave me a curious look, accepting the gear I passed to him and standing still so I could hold up robes to make sure they would fit. "When your time comes?" _Damn!_ I should have watched what I was saying. Since I was here in the Keep I'd forgotten not everyone knew. Well, two people didn't know, and someone was probably telling the other right now.

"You really want to find this out _now_?" I asked. "It's not very nice. I can tell you another day, it's nothing you have to worry about for a long time." Almost as an afterthought I asked him to hold up a foot so I could check boots. "Try those," I said.

He set the robes aside and sat down, pulling off his battered farmer's shoes and replacing them with the enchanted pair of boots in shining black leather I handed over. "Just tell me," Jowan said. "I'm sure whatever it is I'll have to find out eventually." He glanced at his feet. "Maker's breath, this stuff is all so _nice_." I sat on the floor across from him.

"Yeah, turns out the Wardens are disgustingly rich. Weisshaupt sent us a huge pile of money, we're probably better funded than the crown." He shook his head in shock and gestured for me to go on. "Well, you know how I said we _all_ pay a heavy price to be what we are?"

"That was a bit… much, wasn't it?" Jowan asked, making a face. "Very… _Hail, welcome to our spooky mysterious order_" he chuckled, waving his fingertips in the air.

"Hey, we've got _one_ ritual and that's it."

"So we don't have to smear ourselves with blood and dance under the moon on First Day or anything?" he said. "No big Warden funerals where we all chant about darkspawn?"

"Well, about that. Funerals, that is. Not the First Day thing, that's all your twisted mind." I sighed and sat across from him. "We don't really _get_ funerals. See, that wasn't just darkspawn blood, it was archdemon blood as well. And lyrium, but I'm sure you could tell that."

"Please tell me you don't serve that at dinner," he said.

I rolled my eyes. Jowan had gone from terrified about the Joining right through the other side to giddy now that he survived. "You want to know or not?"

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just… kind of amazed to be alive, really… and a Grey Warden, no less. I fully expected to die, especially when I saw Afton go down. I mean, I certainly can't imagine the Maker's looking out for _me._" He shook his head. "So, why don't we get funerals?" he said. "Some tradition?"

"Necessity, really," I said. "See, _no one_ can survive drinking that. Some people, their bodies can't take it and they die right away." He was watching me closely. "The rest of us… we're corrupted. It's slow, but it catches up to us. So, when our time comes, we go to Orzammar and… meet our end fighting in the Deep Roads. Otherwise we'd end up like anyone else exposed to darkspawn blood." I sighed. "It's the only way to make Wardens, though, and since only Wardens can end a blight, there's not much choice. I'm sorry."

"How long?" Jowan asked.

I sighed. "It varies. Figure… roughly thirty years. At the most."

I waited for Jowan to respond. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I'm so sorry, Maggie. This… this is all my fault. If I never asked you to help me you wouldn't…"

"Would you knock it off," I said. "Seriously, if you do that every time I tell you a Warden secret I will set you on fire. Andraste's ass, I should be apologizing to _you_ now."

"Yeah, but… you've been a Warden for almost six years already. And you're even younger than I am! You'll only be—"

I cut him off quickly. "_Please_ don't do the math," I said. "Really, we all know it, we just don't talk about it. It's just… how things are." I shrugged. "You saw them, same as I do. You know someone has to stop the bastards, and we're the only ones who can. They're already digging so they can start the next blight."

"_Already?_" he said, appaled.

"They never stop," I said. "And only Wardens can stop them. So... I can deal with the rest since I know it's more important than just my life."

"What else?" he asked.

I told him about the archdemon and the hunger. "It's very likely your daughter will always be an only child," I warned. "But, not guaranteed, since your wife isn't a Warden."

"And the... _other_ rumors," he asked, grinning. "Are _they_ true?"

I laughed, realizing what he meant. "You have _no_ idea," I said. "There are days we don't even want to leave our room. Unfortunately not an option since I'm technically in charge, but… well, you'll see."

"Well, maybe Nora _won't_ kill me," Jowan said, laughing.

"You think she'll be mad?"

"Oh yeah," he said, nodding. "I've told her hundreds of times I don't want to be a Grey Warden, but she's always suspected I wanted to go off and follow you on some crazy adventure."

"The templars were right on your heels, you didn't have any other options really. I'll tell her, too, if it'll help."

Jowan laughed at that. "Help? When I told her you wanted us to move to Amaranthine she was all 'oh, see, here's where it starts! First it's move there to farm, next thing I know she'll have you running off into danger with her and those other Wardens like overgrown children living out some old tale!'" He shrugged. "So… she might be a bit mad at you, too." He stood up, smoothing out the robes. "Better than being run through by Cullen, though. She'll get over it. Eventually. I hope."

We headed upstairs after a stop in the kitchen for a snack. Anders grinned when he saw I was carrying food. Diving into the basket he bit into a sandwich and grinned. "I adore you. I was just thinking about going down to the kitchen."

"I figured," I said, sitting down. "Guards all right?"

He rolled his eyes. "They are _now_. Bastards cracked a scull on one of them. Wasn't just the two by the inside doors, either. They just… clobbered their way straight through the Keep."

"You're kidding me," I groaned. "How many? Why didn't anyone notice?" I was going to need to have a long talk with the captain of the guards.

"Two by the gates, two by the outside door, and the two inside. From what I can tell they were quiet, so no one noticed. Didn't say anything, just walked up and knocked them out with a single punch each."

"So they didn't even _ask_ to speak with anyone?" Jowan said, surprised. "I thought Wardens were untouchable by the Chantry?"

"We are," I said. "You tell Nathaniel?" Anders nodded. "Well, I'll talk to them in the morning, and if it seems like they were on their own I may send them back to the Chantry. Gesture of goodwill or something. Otherwise they could be looking at a year in prison. Or, you know, something worse."

"Who decides?" Jowan asked.

"Me," I said. "I'm basically the Arlessa, too, so I've got the final say." I sighed. "The new Grand Cleric has said she wants us to be friends, though. I don't want to start some war." It was still dark out, but I could hear the birds outside starting to signal the oncoming dawn.

"I'm sorry for dumping all this on you," Jowan said suddenly. I waved it off.

"Hey, it's been a while since we got into a long drawn out battle with the Chantry," Anders said. "What, two months? I kind of missed it. Got a good Warden out of the last one, and our phylacteries were destroyed. Who knows what we'll get this time! I, for one, would like a pony."

Jowan raised an eyebrow at that. "The guy who took you into the deep roads?" Anders said. "He used to be a templar. He was sent to kill us, but joined up with us instead and just tossed our phylacteries into some lava in the Deep Roads. He couldn't have found a better way to win me over if he tried. Of course, he likes us much better than the Chantry, too."

"You sent me into the deep roads with a _templar?"_

"Hey! _Former_ templar," I said. "He's a Warden now, just like us."

"But I'm a blood mage!"

"And?" I shrugged. "So am I. He knows." Jowan looked at me like I was out of my mind. "Speaking of, I may have you take over Aidan's training. I'm a lousy teacher."

"All… right…" he said. "Um. You're insane. I wanted to make sure you knew that. How long before I go mad, too?" he finally asked. "Since it seems to be _all_ of you, not just Maggie."

"A few months," Anders said quickly. "Maybe a year if things quiet down."

I elbowed him and he laughed, grabbing me by the waist and planting a kiss on my cheek. Jowan shook his head and excused himself to get some sleep. The door was barely closed before Anders picked me up under one arm and ran into the bedroom.

* * *

The next day I managed to get up in time for lunch, swearing I'd never stay up so late again if it didn't involve fighting. After setting up a schedule for the mages to go into the deep roads so they could test their training against darkspawn, planning our trip to Soldier's Peak, and having a long chat with Captain Garavel about how six guards could be knocked out without an alarm raised, resulting in a shuffling of positions and far more eyes on the gates and doors, I had had Rose and Jowan meet me in my office. Rose congratulated him on surviving the joining which, while grim, seemed to be a common sentiment around the keep. 'Hey, you didn't die! Good on you, welcome to the club!' People had said the same thing to me the night before the battle at Ostagar, from what I recalled, so I guess it was the same everywhere. "Remember the way to his farm?" I asked her.

"If I don't I'm sure Roland does, he was plotting the route for that entire trip," she said.

"All right," I said. "You two, and bring two others… as if I even need to guess who," she shrugged, laughing. "Can you head over there and let Jowan's wife know what happened? Chased by the templars, came straight here, didn't want to lead them to her and the baby. Bring the big wagon, she may want to stay on the farm but if not can you help her pack?"

"Sure thing," Rose said.

"Great," I said. I reached into one of the pockets on my belt and took out a handful of gold coins. "Here, stay in inns on the way there and back, stable the horses, anything left is for all of you since this isn't exactly normal Warden duties."

Her eyes went wide at the amount of money. It was from my own finances, not the Warden treasury. "She's not going to be happy to find out," Jowan warned. "So, you might want to really push the templar thing."

"And gag Roland if you have to," I added, to which Rose laughed.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Just… if you could tell her I love her and the baby, I miss them both, and I'm _really_ sorry," Jowan shrugged. "Not much I else I can think of. I mean, let her know I'm fine, and can't wait to see them?"

"Will do," she said. "I'll go grab the Three Chevalier and we can head out right away." Someone had come up with that nickname for Roland, Arthur, and Ronan, inspired by a popular Orlesian novel, and it had stuck to the degree that some people had started to call them by the names of the characters. Ronan, of course, with his past as a templar was the religiously inclined Aramis. Our troubadour Roland could only be Porthos, the member of the trio obsessed with wine, women and song. Poor Arthur was stuck with Athos by default. The seriousness and responsible bent fit him but thankfully he didn't seem to have any mysterious past driving him to drink like the character did. For their part, they seemed to find it entertaining and embraced the flamboyant image. They were just about the only people at the Keep who wore the optional uniform tunics, and all tied them with blue sashes at the waist. I suspected they liked being able to stand out from the growing crowd.

Arthur appeared at my door before we could head out. "I know you said four people, but can Dermott come?"

I giggled. "So… that's why you're not so worried about magic anymore?" He blushed and I had the answer. "Normally you know I'd say yes, but not this time. Templars might be watching the house, I don't want any mages going with you. The whole thing will be very touchy as it is."

He nodded. "I didn't even think of that. Not having a mage with us is probably for the best."

"Sorry," I said again. "You won't be gone long, at least. Shouldn't be more than a week." I shrugged. "I'll make it up to you, when you get back you two can get leave for a couple days in the city." He beamed at that and headed out after thanking me.

Jowan was watching me from across the room with a small smile on his face. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "Just… you. The boss. It's strange."

"Hey, I'm your boss too, now," I said.

"How is that any different from when we were kids?" he asked, laughing. "So, what are my orders?"

"You've got the day off," I reminded him. "But, if you're bored you can go see the quartermaster and he'll set you up with the rest of your gear, and head over to Master Wade's shop. Tell him you're a new mage and he'll measure you for the robes he's making."

Once he left I tracked down Nathaniel and we went to deal with our prisoners. The guard snapped to attention as soon as we walked into the small prison.

"Leave us," Nathaniel said quickly. "Wait outside." The guard saluted him and walked out. Cullen was standing in the cell, staring daggers at me. Strangely, the other templar was staring daggers at Cullen.

"I assume you have a rational explanation as to why you assaulted six of our guards and broke into our home?" Nathaniel said.

"I am Ser Keegan, this is," he paused to sigh, "Ser Cullen. We were chasing a known maleficar and tracked him here." He glared at us. "Harboring a fugitive from Chantry justice is _no_ small matter." He looked at me closely. "My partner also believes another maleficar lives here. You may wear armor, but I can _tell_ you're a mage. I assure you, your wealth will not protect you if can't prove that you have permission to be outside the Circle."

"Treason is no small matter, either," I said. He stared at me in confusion. "What? Please tell me you at _least_ knew where you were before you broke in." He didn't seem to have an answer to that. "Cullen," I said, turning to him. "Would you like to tell your friend who I am?"

"Just another mage, no different from the rest" he hissed. "And all mages outside the tower _must_ die." Oh, fantastic. I can see he was _much_ better now.

"Cullen, we've talked about this," the other templar said slowly. "All mages _except_ who?"

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Except _children_," he finally said. "So they get the chance to become older and more powerful maleficar," he sneered.

"Thanks, Cullen," I said. "Really, I'm so glad I saved your life."

"Why did you!" he demanded, shouting. "You let the others die! You made me _watch_! They tell me it wasn't you, but I _saw you_. It was your face, it was your voice!"

"Oh, Maker," the other templar muttered. "You're the bloody Hero of Ferelden, aren't you?_" _I ignored him for now and kept my eyes on Cullen.

I stepped closer to him, trying to find some shred of the decent man he used to be in his eyes. "Cullen, it _wasn't_ me. I didn't get there until they were already dead. It was a demon, trying to fool you."

"_It was you!_" he shouted again, slamming a fist on the bars. Nathaniel took a step towards him, hand on a dagger. "You think I don't know? You think I can't tell?" he shook his head angrily. "I'd know your face anywhere, and it was _you_. You told me if I was strong enough to survive we could be together," he said, his voice breaking. "And then… you _left_ again."

I could see a glow begin to form around him and Nathaniel shoved me away from the bars, grabbing Cullen by one hand and holding a dagger with the other. "Try it and I'll cut you down right here," he said quickly. "She may feel bad for you, but as far as I care you're just a lunatic who broke in to my home."

I looked over to the other templar. "I take it you know who I am now?"

"Yes, Commander, I think I've managed to figure that out," he said dryly. "I'd tell you I would have pulled him back at the gates had I known this was Grey Warden property, but I suspect the damage is done." He sighed.

"You really had _no_ idea?"

"I'm new to Highever," he said, looking embarrassed. "It was late when we arrived, and dark. I should have researched the area more, I admit. I was not particularly… thrilled with my new assignment." Cullen was ranting to Nathaniel, I tried to tune him out. It wasn't easy given that every fifth word was either _kill_ or _maleficar_. "Knight-Commander Greagoir and the new Grand Cleric have given all of us strict orders not to interfere with you or any of your people," he said. "Had I known you were so close to my posting I would have paid more attention."

"You're fairly lucky," I told Ser Keegan. "If you interrupted us any later this would be a very different conversation. Most likely one ending with the phrase 'welcome to the Grey Wardens.' Oh, and you're not in Highever, you're in Amaranthine now."

"So, what happens now?"

I glanced over at Nathaniel, he shrugged and rolled his eyes. Cullen had moved on to warning him about how dangerous I was, with fairly detailed descriptions of his visions. "Although I don't think it's particularly safe for Cullen to be wandering around," I shrugged. "I remember when he was a good person. He was always kind to me, to everyone. That's rare in the tower."

"He's been through a lot," the templar agreed. "It… changed him."

"Obviously," I said. "Look, I can't let you wander free. Wardens are secretive, and with good reason. And, you did assault six of our staff. I'll send a messenger to the Knight-Commander, he can have someone come get both of you. As far as I'm concerned Cullen's his problem."

"That's… very generous of you," he said. "Greagoir will have my head for this, but I do appreciate it."

"I'll let him know you didn't realize it was our land. Sorry, that's really the best I can do." I sighed, pushing my hair from my eyes. "Look, I'm not exactly aching to get into another fight with the Chantry, I've got bigger problems. I'd rather keep the peace if I can."

"Thank you," he said. "And… the maleficar?"

I smiled at him. "Now _that_ I have no idea about. Sorry."

"See, no one died," I said to Nathaniel as we walked back into the Keep.

"I'm impressed," he said. "I was tempted to kill him myself. If Anders does have dreams even remotely like what he described I'd suggest sleeping with a knife under your pillow from now on. Ideally in a different room. Preferably a different room in a different building. Perhaps somewhere in the Denerim compound might be nice."

"Ew," I said. "Not sure I want to know."

"Trust me, you don't," he said.

* * *

I was helping Jowan catch up on the arcane warrior spells so he could start working with the other mages when a wagon pulled into the courtyard of the Keep. I looked up to see Roland offer a jaunty wave before hopping down, reaching up to help Rose to the ground. Tapping Jowan on the shoulder I pointed just in time for him to see Nora hand the baby down to Arthur before Ronan helped her down. "Well?" I said when he froze, staring openmouthed. "Go on, get over there."

He spun without a pause and took off across the grounds. I walked after him, keeping a slow pace and stopping to talk to people. I had to show them where they would be living, but wanted to give the two a moment for their reunion. I caught a glimpse of Jowan picking his wife up and spinning her around before they kissed and felt relieved she didn't seem angry. Of course, five seconds later she slapped him across the face hard enough I could hear it from where I stood. "She is _so mad_," Rose said in a whisper as she walked up next to me. "She's relieved he's all right, but oooh, she is _so ticked_ he's a Warden. She thinks you two have been plotting this for ages." She shook her head. "See that, right there, is why I don't want to get married."

"Because you're afraid your husband will run off and join the Wardens?" I said, laughing. "Yes, I have very similar fears. Oh… wait."

"Well, all right, maybe not _exactly_ that," she admitted with a laugh. "I don't see why it matters, anyways."

"Me neither," I agreed. "Jowan's always been surprisingly old fashioned for a mage, though. Thanks again for taking care of this, I appreciate it."

"It was a nice diversion," she said. "I like traveling."

She went inside to unpack and I walked over to Jowan and his family. Nora turned on me the moment I arrived. "And _you_," she shouted, causing me to jump back. "How long have you been planning this?"

I sighed. "You got me. I hired two templars and planted them near your farm _just_ so they would recognize him and chase him here to us." Jowan smacked his hand against his forehead behind her.

"Well sure, it sounds irrational when you put it like _that_," she said. "Sorry, this has been a lot to take in at once."

'Neither of us planned this," I said. "I swear it. I'm just glad I was able to help. The templars can't touch him now."

"Ever?"

"Well, not unless he leaves the order."

"That's a relief, at least," she said. "I never saw myself as a soldier's wife, though, and something tells me this is actually worse."

"Well, we're better paid," I offered, not having much else to say that would make it sound at all appealing. "Nicer quarters, too. Want me to show them to you?"

"Might as well," she sighed. "I notice you didn't say it was any safer."

"For whatever it might be worth, I've only ever lost one person under my command and that was… unavoidable."

"Oh? And what of his family? Do the Grey Wardens see to his children now?"

"Well, his only daughter is older than me, and was the Teyrna of Gwaren when he died, so I don't think she needs much help," I said. "But, Maker forbid, should anything happen, I _personally_ will make sure you and your daughter are taken care of, even if it has to come from my own pocket." While I wasn't wealthy by any stretch, I'd amassed a decent sum towards the end of the blight and in the years since. I'd already left instructions it was to be split between Jowan and Oghren's daughters when I was gone, anyways. I unlocked the door of the first in a row of small attached buildings and took the keys from my ring, passing them to her. "They're small, but brand new. You're the only family we have now, but supposedly Oghren's wife and daughter will be moving up here soon." He had finally talked Felsi into moving, she agreed she would once the weather was 'tolerable.'

Jowan glanced at me and I waved him inside. "Take the rest of the day and get your family settled, we can get back to work tomorrow." He thanked me and went inside.

I could hear them yelling again before I made it ten feet away. "So you need her permission to help your wife unpack now!"

"Nora, she's my commanding officer now, what do you expect?" came Jowan's pleading response. "What, would you _rather_ the templars kill me? Since it's this or dead."

I sped up, not wanting to listen to their fighting. This was _exactly_ why I'd been avoiding recruits with families.

* * *

_Poor Jowan, he just can't win_. _Thanks to everyone who reviews, follows and favorites this, the notifications always make my day. :)_


	44. Now they even accept people like us

I was amazed to see the Knight Commander himself ride into the Keep courtyard one evening after dinner. He had two other templars with him, but they remained on their horses. I broke away from the group of mages I'd been supervising, gesturing to Anders. "Get Jowan and make sure he keeps out of sight," I said quickly. "I may have to offer them tea or something. I'll bring him to the office if I have to."

"Have fun," he laughed, going inside.

"Knight-Commander," I said, walking over to meet him. "I'm surprised to see you came out for this."

He sighed. "Yes, well, Cullen is… a special case. May I see them?"

"Of course," I said, leading him to the prison. Once we were inside I ordered the guard to wait outside with me so Greagoir could speak to his men in private. As soon as I'd opened the door Cullen had started screaming to the Knight-Commander that he had to kill me. I could only shake my head at that. I took out my nerves about templars at the Keep on a practice dummy while I waited for him.

"Unusual fighting style," someone said behind me.

I turned to see Greagoir had emerged from the prison. I sent the guard back in, making sure he would get the men lunch. "I picked it up from a few places. Mostly a bard I used to travel with, some from an Antivan Crow. The rest I just kind of make up as I go along," I said, putting my blades away and brushing my hair back from my eyes. I managed to force myself to smile. "Can I offer you some tea?"

He looked surprised. "Thank you," the Knight-Commander said, following me as I gestured towards the building. "This is… very nice," he said, taking a seat in my office. It was a cluttered mess, with Nathaniel and Sigrun off recruiting I had more paperwork than usual to deal with, and wasn't terribly organized about it.

"Thanks," I said. "It's all recently rebuilt." A maid came in with a tray of tea, setting it on an empty corner of the desk before leaving, closing the door behind her. "I hope they had no complaints about their treatment? I left fairly specific instructions for the staff."

"No, none," he said, sounding surprised by that. "Keegan said you made sure they had, um, everything they could need."

"Well, let's just say His Majesty has a big mouth," I said to explain how I knew about the lyrium addiction. Alistair might not like me ratting him out, but he was king now, it wasn't as though they would yell at him. "I took care of that personally, I figured you wouldn't want word to get out. We've all got our secrets." He raised an eyebrow, looking like he didn't believe me. "I'm not _evil_. I have no problem with Ser Keegan, he didn't even know what this building was when they arrived. And Cullen… well, I feel bad for him. He was always nice to me."

"You don't say," he responded drily.

"Hey! I never did anything to encourage that, give me _some_ credit."

He made some noise I took to be a grunt of agreement. Greagoir had never been an easy man to read, though. It was almost as likely to be a grunt of disbelief. "I had hoped taking him from the tower would help," Greagoir said. "I'm at a loss, to be honest. He shows improvement, but…"

"He still wants to kill every mage he sees," I finished. The Knight-Commander nodded. "I wish I could help. He hates me most of all, though." I sighed. "Have you thought about Aeonar?"

Greagoir looked appalled. "I think imprisoning him would be a last resort. He hasn't _acted_ on his anger yet!"

"No," I shook my head. "Not as a prison, as a _job_. He thinks all mages are evil maleficar plotting against him. Maybe, if they were, he'd be… all right? Then it wouldn't be crazy, it would be the truth." I shrugged. "Not the best idea. Sorry."

"Not the worst, either," he admitted.

"Well, you have to do _something_," I said. "I'm not exactly thrilled he knows where I live now, you don't think he'll come back here if you just reassign him somewhere else?"

"I don't think you're in any danger," he said dismissively.

I rolled my eyes at that. "I know _I'm_ not, but _he_ is. If I wasn't there I have no doubt Nathaniel would have killed him. This is his family's ancestral home. He's a Warden now, but he's still very protective of the Keep." I sighed, remembering what Cullen had said. "Even if I'm not, he's going to kill someone eventually. What if a parent brought their child to that Chantry because they displayed signs of magic?

"I get your point," Greagoir said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I may have to just retire him to Val Royeaux."

"Just make sure _something_ gets done. I might not be in danger, but he will kill someone eventually. He's quite clear about that."

He nodded sadly and set his cup down. "You're just handing them back to me? No catch?"

"I'll admit, I'm not happy," I said. "They attacked my staff and broke in. They came _very_ close to ending up conscripted since we were in the middle of a Joining. But, if giving them back to you will keep the peace between us and the Chantry I'll be satisfied. The catch is that, if it turns out Keegan knew this was Warden property, if we have further problems… I won't be as nice as I was last time." If it happened again I'd just do what Weisshaupt recommended and 'deal with' the problem quietly before it spread.

"Is that a threat?"

"Nope," I said. "Not unless you know something I don't."

"Fair enough," he admitted. "Although now I'm slightly curious as to what you would consider _not _being nice since your version of nice still seems to involve quite a few people dying." He seemed to have more to say so I waited, sipping my tea. "Cullen tells me he saw Jowan. I'm concerned it may be a hallucination. That would be a sign he's actually become far worse. If that was the case I might have no choice but to have him imprisoned in Aeonar. Would you know anything about that?" _Oh, Greagoir, you bastard. _That wasn't playing fair, not at all. He knew damn well Cullen wasn't hallucinating and was trying to use guilt to force my hand.

"Jowan?" I said, buying myself time while I came up with something. Sure, Cullen was a maniac, but I wouldn't wish _imprisonment _in Aeonar on anyone.

"Yes, Jowan. I'm sure you remember him. The blood mage _you_ unleashed on Ferelden!" I didn't expect him to fall for my stalling. It wasn't exactly a common name, and we had been best friends for more than a decade. Forgetting him wasn't likely, even I hadn't been hit on the head that many times.

"Ohh, _that_ Jowan," I said, realizing how obvious my ploy was. I glanced over at Nathaniel's desk, spotting a small drawing of him with Sigrun, which gave me an idea. Hopefully, wouldn't end in another Chantry-Warden standoff, depending on how philosophical the Knight-Commander was feeling. "Are you familiar with the Legion of the Dead?"

"I've heard of them, but beyond that, no. Dwarven warrior sects are not exactly my concern. Why do you ask?" He glared at me with obvious suspicion. It was his usual expression when glaring at me, though, so I ignored it.

"I like Orzammar," I said. "If you ever get a vacation you should go. Don't stay at Tapsters, though, they only have dwarf-sized beds. The place in the Diamond quarter has human-sized ones. Much better. Orzammar's great. They're the only ones besides us who _really_ understand the danger darkspawn pose. You know, they don't believe in execution?" He raised an eyebrow, obviously wondering why I was telling him this. "I know, strange given how violent some aspects of their culture can be. But, if someone does something horrid, something they should die for, the government won't kill them. They have a funeral for them, hand them a blade and off they go into the Deep Roads. The strongest survive until they find the Legion. They earn redemption protecting others from the darkspawn until they fall in battle."

"Margaret, if this is your idea of a _joke_ I'm not finding it very funny," Greagoir snapped.

"Warden Commander Margaret," I corrected him. "Unless you want to be on a first name basis now. That's totally fine with me if you do, by the way. I mean, since you command the templars in Ferelden and I command the Wardens technically I think we're equals." I giggled at the idea. "Maker's breath, that's funny, who would have ever guessed _that _could happen ten years ago?" He continued to glare at me so I kept talking. "And no, it's not a joke. I just find it interesting since, despite their name and symbolic death, Grey Wardens are actually _more_ dead. Everyone here knows exactly how long they have, and how they will die. They die symbolically, but the moment we become a Warden it's quite literal. The clock starts ticking, so to speak. It's an ugly way to go, but we do it so people like you don't have to." I sighed. "But, I got distracted. One of my friends came to us from them, she's in Redcliffe recruiting and I miss her company. The picture on my lieutenant's desk reminded me. What were we talking about?"

"_Jowan_."

"Riiiight," I said. "Well, Jowan is dead, of course."

He sighed. "How surprising."

"Is it?"

"No, not really," Greagoir admitted. "I'm going to assume you mean that _literally_ in the interest of being 'nice.' Let's both hope I don't find out otherwise." I didn't really have to ask if that was a threat. It was the best resolution I could hope for, though, and frankly, unless I kept Jowan under lock and key someone would find out eventually. Even if Cullen's report was dismissed as madness Keegan saw him as well, and Greagoir would certainly recognize the description. Although I'm sure Jowan would be just fine with a 'never leave the Keep' plan, I'd saved his life enough times he owed me by now, and I really needed more Wardens. We did need an archivist, and the thought crossed my mind, but I could write neater than him if I held the pen in my feet. That pretty much left a job making darkspawn die.

I suppose I wasn't as altruistic as everyone thought.

I walked him back to the prison and had the horses Cullen and Keegan arrived on brought out. "I'm going to make myself scarce the moment they're out," I warned Greagoir. "I'm not really in the mood to hold everyone back if Cullen snaps in front of them."

He nodded. "Is it true what they're saying, that the talking darkspawn are back?"

"It is," I agreed. "I've got three teams out now looking for them all over northern Ferelden, that's where the sightings have all been. No luck so far but they can't hide from me forever. I'll kill them eventually." The Knight-Commander rolled his eyes at that. "Oh, come _on_," I said. "Really, I know you don't like me, but Maker's breath. I survived Ostagar, I killed Uldred, I killed the sodding _archdemon_, can you just admit that _maybe_ I know what I'm doing?"

"Perhaps," he said, actually managing a small smile.

"From you that's high praise," I said, laughing. "Always a joy chatting with you, Knight-Commander. See you next time I need mages." I went to hide out in Master Wade's shop until they were gone. It turned out this was the best location Anders could also think of to hide. Both he and Jowan were discussing robes with the smith.

"Is he gone?" Jowan asked.

"Leaving soon," I replied, peeking out the window. Cullen was arguing with the Knight-Commander. "Oh, ouch," I muttered. Anders came over to look over my head out the window.

"What happened?" Jowan asked us.

"Cullen's, um, on the ground, and the Knight-Commander's helping him up," Anders provided.

"Tobias just punched him in the face," I provided.

"_What?"_ Jowan said, elbowing me aside.

"Keep your head down," I warned. "You'll get an exalted march called on us!"

"Looks like Greagoir's threatening Tobias," Anders reported. "No, no, he's backing down. It looks like everyone else was ready to jump in."

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm an apprentice again?" Jowan said, peeking through the corner of the window. Even Herren was having trouble hiding his laughter as we hid from the templars.

"No idea," I said. "But Oghren has a bottle of brandy in his room. I say we liberate it once they're gone."

"Oghren has an entire _still_ in his room," Jowan supplied. "He asked me if I knew a way to make it ferment faster with magic."

"All the more reason to take the booze," I said. "Now it's a safety issue."

"I'm only in if you'll join me in an empty storeroom later," Anders said.

"_Definitely_ feeling like I'm an apprentice again," Jowan repeated.

I burst out laughing at that. "Finally, they're gone!" We went back outside, Tobias rushing over right away.

"I guess you saw that?" he asked.

"Cullen's… not quite right anymore," I said. "He says a lot of things that don't make sense."

"Crazy or not, there's some things you just don't _say," _he said. "Especially about the Commander of the Grey. And especially in front of a bunch of Wardens. If I hadn't hit him someone else would have."

"You shouldn't just go around punching templars," I warned. "I mean, I can't let something like that slide."

He groaned. "Come on, Maggie, I was onl—"

"You like brownies, right?" I mused, interrupting him. "I might have to ask the cook to deliver a batch up to your room for this to show how very, very disappointed I am in you."

He stared at me blankly before bursting into laughter. "You almost had me," Tobias admitted

"I can't believe you did that," Jowan laughed at we headed up the back stairway. I had gone straight to the kitchen to make good on my word. Tobias would find a large plate of brownies in his room by the end of the day

* * *

Nathaniel and Sigrun returned with half a dozen recruits several days later, relieved to see our unwanted guests were gone. He nodded with satisfaction when I told him about Tobias punching Cullen. "You didn't actually get mad at him, did you?"

"No," I laughed. "I sent him brownies! I thought it was kind of sweet, although my honor hardly needs defending."

"Far too late for that," Nathaniel agreed, laughing. "I don't think _anyone_ would stand for someone speaking about their commander like he was, and our people seem far more… fervent than the average knight."

"They should be," I said. "Being a Warden is a lot more than being a knight."

"True," he agreed.

"So," I said, glancing over at him. "Feel like explaining where you got the black eye?" He hadn't said a word about it since they unpacked the wagon and I was dying of curiosity.

"It's nothing," he said, brushing me off. "Had a run in with some bandits on the North Road."

"Are you all right?" I asked, concerned. "Want Anders to take a look at it?"

"Someone already did in Highever," he said. "It was Fergus Cousland they were attacking, we just happened to come across them and jumped in. He insisted on having us stay with him and letting his healer look everyone over."

"He's lucky you came along," I said. "The North Road isn't safe without guards, he should know that."

Nathaniel shrugged. "You know how he is, always expects the best of everyone. I must admit, I find it admirable he hasn't become bitter after all that happened."

I understood what he meant, Fergus was optimistic almost to a fault when it came to anything other than guarding his family.

With nothing more to say on the matter we made sure the recruits were ready to go into the deep roads. With two who arrived while they were gone, that made groups of four that each of our junior members could bring down. I left Sigrun and Nathaniel to unlock the doors while I made sure everything else was ready. Just like last time, every Warden at the Keep packed into the main hall for it. Fortunately the interruption from the last time wasn't repeated, and by the evening we had five new members.

Jowan and Brendan both looked exhausted once we were done and the room had cleared out. "It's never easy," I offered.

"I hated knowing what could happen and not being able to say anything," Jowan offered. "It seems so… wrong, to answer their questions as though everything will be fine."

I felt the same way, it was something I constantly worried about whenever we got new recruits. "I don't know, I like to think if they don't make it, at least they feel excited and happy about joining us at the end. Make their last few hours a bit better, you know?"

Brendan shrugged. "I'm glad I didn't know. I think I would have been so distracted I wouldn't have made it out of the Deep Roads in one piece." He looked at me. "I don't know how you managed to put your own brother through that without pacing a hole in the floor."

Jowan looked at me. "You have a brother?"

"News to me," I replied.

"What?" he replied, looking at both of us. "You mean he's not…?"

"Ohhhh…" I said, finally understanding. "We're not _actually_ related, we grew up together in the tower. But I did practically pace a hole through the floor."

"Really?" he said, sounding genuinely surprised. "Almost everyone says you are. You even look a bit alike. Dark hair, same nose." Barely realizing it I put my hand to my nose and glanced at Jowan. He was doing the same thing. We both burst out laughing.

"Well, that paints all those old rumors about our secret romance in a whole new, even more creepy light," he said, laughing. For years people had whispered about us in the tower, something we both found amusing given the absurdity, and annoying since it occasionally got in the way of one of us going after someone we were interested in. "And I do _not_ have the same nose as you. Your nose is… girly."

"Maybe because I'm a girl, you ass?" I said, elbowing him.

"I don't know, I've always wondered about that," Jowan said. "Girls usually don't hit people as much as you do." He paused briefly. "Other than my wife. She's got a temper."

"You're _sure_ you aren't related?" Brendan asked again, shaking his head. "Bizarre."

"I'd think I would remember an obnoxious three year old following me everywhere before I was dragged to the tower," Jowan said. "Especially if she looked exactly like the obnoxious four year old who started following me everywhere a year after I got to the tower."

"I was not _obnoxious_," I protested. "And you know your childhood would have been miserable without me."

"Sure, what would I have done without all those hours spent scrubbing floors and stockrooms because you talked me into some horrible plan," he said.

"You know, I could tell people you're not siblings, but…" Brendan shook his head. "Who would ever believe me?"

* * *

I had gotten word that the road to the Peak, dug through the caves, was complete so I rushed everyone to be ready to visit just days later. Nathaniel had elected to stay behind and keep an eye on things at home, which was fine as we had a substantial group already.

On the way there I told everyone as much as I knew about the battle between the Ferelden Wardens and King Arland, and about Avernus. It was a short trip, we didn't even have to leave the Arling. I could see the towers in view before dusk. "That's it," I told Anders, who was driving the wagon.

"I guess that answers if we have to camp or not tonight," he said. "Maker's breath, it's _huge_. I mean, the Keep is big, but two of Vigil's Keep could fit inside that place."

I was reminded of what Morrigan had said when we first traveled here. "Once the Wardens flourished, their ranks full, their caliber certain. Now they even accept people like us."

"Hey," Roland protested. "I was _born_ for this."

I laughed. "It was a joke. Morrigan said something very similar the first time we came here to pick on Alistair. Besides, if I'm picking on any of you it's just a dig at myself… I'm the one who recruited most of you!"

We hopped down from the wagon. Although I could see a few small lean-tos with crates stacked under them there was no real sign of the Dryden family. Not surprising, from what I knew Levi visited on occasion and used the Peak for storage but with the civil war over his family had returned to traveling. The vision I'd had at our first visit didn't repeat, but I kept seeing the image of ghostly troops out of the corner of my eye. They would disappear if I looked at them. "See what I mean?" I said.

"The veil is thin," he agreed. "I think we can fix it, though. It doesn't seem to actually be _ripped_, just weak."

"We shouldn't sleep here until we do, though," Jowan warned. He was glancing around like me, apparently seeing the same hints of ghosts. "Not with so many mages."

"Oh, but its fine for the rest of us?" Arthur said.

"You wouldn't be in any danger sleeping here. Mages are like a beacon to demons, though. With the veil this thin… we wouldn't be safe," Dermott said patiently.

"And that wouldn't be safe for anyone around us, either," Jowan added. "I don't relish the idea of becoming an abomination."

"We can camp further down the road," I said. "I just wanted to walk through tonight and let Avernus know we're here." I walked up the stairs, unlocking the main door. I thought I saw a flicker of Sophia Dryden rallying the Wardens for a moment as soon as I stepped into the Peak, but it faded away quickly. I pointed out the declaration on the wall. "They held off the army for a year," I said.

"Not many to stand against an army," Ronan said in awe.

"One Warden is worth ten common soldiers," I said. Most looked at me as though I was trying to butter their egos, but it was true. I'd fought my way across Ferelden a dozen times over during the blight, and I would say any of the Wardens today were easily the equal of my skills, or those of Alistair and our companions, at the time. I didn't know if it was mental or physical, though. Maybe our connection to the darkspawn gave us a sense of urgency and a belief in our actions other fighters lacked. It could always be that the changes in our stamina and endurance after surviving the Joining were enough to give us an edge over others who would tire while we were just hitting our stride. Perhaps a combination of the two. "And they thought their cause was just."

"And you?" Anders asked.

"I loathe politics," I said. "I've read Sophia Dryden's journal, she planned it from the beginning. He was a tyrant, but it wasn't Warden business."

Jowan looked at me with his brows raised. "And you were so above politics in the civil war?"

"Not the same," I protested. "My business was ending the blight, stopping anyone who got in my way fell under the same heading." I shrugged. "They were fools, they thought any man with a sword could kill the archdemon. If I had stepped back the darkspawn would have spread across Ferelden. Gone West into Orlais, maybe even finding a way under the water to the Free Marches and Nevarra. It could still be going on." I sighed. "You think no one killed the dragon in the first blight, before us? I'm sure they did. But, the soul moved on. It wasn't a dragon then, it was a single darkspawn among thousands. No wonder it took centuries to end it. That's what would have happened here, my duty was to do anything I could to prevent that. Screw politics. I just want to do my job."

"And this from the Arlessa," he laughed.

I snorted at that. "I'm the name on a piece of paper. Nathaniel and Varel run the Arling, and everyone knows it."

We passed through the other rooms in silence. The mages were all on guard and everyone else seemed to be worried only because they could sense how nervous we were. I would catch glimpses, not just of the final stand against Arland, but of normal life. I spotted two Wardens laughing over an open book, another sitting at a table, calmly sharpening a blade, a group sharing a meal in the mess hall. All would vanish when I looked at them head on.

I shivered. Going into the fade here wouldn't be easy. I began to question if we _really_ needed to worry about ever using the Peak again.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks as always to everyone who adds me to their alerts and favorite lists, and especially anyone that reviews. :) _


	45. Hey, at least I'm honest!

"I've never seen anything like this," Anders said, breaking the silence as we reached the third floor. The closer we got to where the demons initially broke through the more intense the effect seemed to become. Glimpses of people had been taunting me since we walked through the gates, but now I would see entirely different rooms from the corner of my eye. Where there was a bare wall, a dust covered floor, and perhaps a pile of kindling I would briefly glimpse a bookshelf and chair, candle ready as though someone was preparing to settle in to read.

"I have," Aidan replied. "The Circle was like this for a bit, just after the Uldred thing." I noticed almost everyone called it that, or something similar. Not the most glorious name for his failed rebellion to go down in history as, but since his initial goals had been something almost half the mages in Ferelden supported naming it anything else was a little too uncomfortable. Better it be remembered as one man gone mad with a pride demon than some warning about allowing mages the freedom everyone else has. "Some of the senior enchanters went into the fade and fixed it, though." Dermott made a noise of agreement. "It was horrible."

"Good to know it _can_ be fixed," I said. I thought my plan was solid but we had no real proof it would actually work.

"It's kind of fascinating, in a way," Jowan said. "Like we're seeing a glimpse into their lives. Creepy, but definitely fascinating."

"I don't think we're seeing the same thing you're seeing," Rose said, sounding wary. "It just looks… foggy."

"No, you're not," I confirmed. "I'm seeing ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Arthur said. "Don't tell me you believe in those."

"You _don't_?" Anders asked, shocked. "It's just… spirits or memories trapped in the fade. When the veil is thin sometimes you can see them." He paused briefly. "Well, not _you_, but we can."

Jowan nodded. "It's not like in the tales, where some spurned woman's spirit will howl and rage until her death is avenged. Just… echoes. Glimpses of things that happened once. Sometimes important things, sometimes trivial."

"I'm getting a mix of both," Dermott said. "Brief flashes of their last battle. I think I saw someone cut down, just from the corner of my eye. But, like, people walking around, talking, things like that, too. Normal life, and a bit of what this place must have looked like before they fell to the army."

"Well _fantastic_," Roland said. "I'm not really liking this whole not seeing what might kill us thing. Can you, I don't know, magic them so we can all see?" Rose rolled her eyes at that.

"They're not going to kill you," I said. "They're just visions. No more dangerous than a reflection in a mirror. The last time I was here it was worse. Everyone could see them, not only the mages. And it was the demons and walking corpses that tried to kill us. You'll have no problem seeing those, though."

"How comforting," Ronan said dryly.

We finally climbed the stairs to reach the room where the veil had been damaged centuries earlier. "You know," Anders said, "this is actually pretty nice. The big fireplace, I can see some comfortable chairs and tables spread around. It could be rather homey, once the whole demon thing is taken care of."

"Isn't it?" I said. "We could summer here in the mountains and winter at the Keep." We both managed a grim laugh at that. "See, I can't even _pretend_ to be a noble."

We walked through the room, examining the old circles. "This is where we should go in," Aidan said. "I can send no more than four of you through with everyone else's help."

"Anders, Jowan and I will go," I said. "Does anyone else have a preference?" A large part of me wanted only the Circle mages to go in since we were all trained in how to manage the Fade. I didn't want to start showing preference for one group over another, though. I knew Anders and Jowan could be trusted to handle themselves and resist demons without my watching them, at least. Anders had survived the Harrowing, like me. While Jowan had never gone through the Harrowing, he had been a blood mage for more than six years without ending up an abomination. That alone was enough proof that he had the willpower to resist any temptation the demons could present him. We had discussed it only once, and very briefly, but both of us noticed an increase in the amount of attention the more malicious spirits of the fade paid to us since becoming blood mages. If a normal mage was like a candle to the demons, a blood mage was a torch.

Well, that and I really _really_ hated the fade and would far prefer having them with me than anyone else.

"I have no problem going into the fade myself," Moira said when no one spoke up. "But I'm not great with sending other people there."

"All right, you'll be with us, then." That left Dermott and an apostate named Ralf to help Aidan with the ritual. He would explain it to them tonight at camp.

"What about us?" Rose asked. "This is all mage business, what should the rest of us do?"

"Well, first thing, you're here to protect us. While we're over there we might as well be dead. None of us would know if someone hurt, or even killed, our physical form until we tried to come back. The others will be too focused during the ritual to break away, and too exhausted after to defend themselves much less us."

"Anything else?"

"If, Maker forbid, we cause more damage to the Veil instead of repairing it a demon may break free. You'll need to take it out, quick as you can. _Do not_ talk to it, just attack. They're cunning, and they'll offer you whatever you want. Don't even let it try."

"How likely is that to happen?" Arthur said, looking grim.

"Not very, but I want you prepared."

"They can look into your mind, right into your soul," Anders warned. "Whatever your deepest secret desires are… they'll know them and promise it on a silver platter. Don't let them speak, just _kill_."

"They're not too bad to take down usually," I said. "Emissaries are tougher than almost any demon. I know you can do it."

"Got it," Rose said, sounding more confident than she looked.

Anders, Jowan, and I shared a quick glance. "One more thing," I said. "If one of us comes back… as something else… make sure we don't leave this room. Understand?"

"I'm sure we don't have to worry about that," she said quickly.

"We _always_ have to worry about that," Jowan said.

I looked directly at Ronan. "Understand?"

"Yes, Maggie," he paled and nodded. "I… would rather not, but I know what the signs are."

"Look, if you were anything but unhappy with the idea I wouldn't _ask_ you. I don't want someone with a sword at my throat hoping I fail and giddy to cut down a mage. I don't think it'll happen, I pray it won't, but if it does… I'd rather die than live like that."

Jowan, Anders and Moira all voiced their agreement quickly. Ronan looked vaguely ill. I walked over and put my hand on his shoulder. "I don't think we'll have any problem. I really, really, honestly don't. But I think it would be wildly irresponsible of me to do this without making sure you were all ready for the worst case scenario. And I do at least ten things that Nathaniel calls irresponsible before lunch almost daily, so you know how bad it is if I'll acknowledge something as such."

"No, I understand. I just… I've had to do that once, and even though I could barely call him an acquaintance I hesitated. All of you," he shrugged, "You're my _friends_. I worry I might not be able to do it."

"Odds are you won't have to," Anders reminded him. "But… if it happens, we're not your friends anymore. We're _already_ dead at that point. Don't let some demon use our bodies for whatever sick plans they have." He pushed his hair back, looking upset by the idea. "It's… it's like the broodmothers. Sometimes… killing someone is the merciful thing." I glanced over at him, shocked. A couple years earlier, before either of us would actually admit we were even in a relationship, I had once, just once, asked Anders if he would promise never to let me be taken alive by the darkspawn. It seemed the logical choice. We always traveled together, after all, and I figured he would have a vested interest in saving me from a fate worse than death. It had sparked a three hour fight, featuring him repeatedly screaming '_How can you even **think** of asking me to do that?' _ and two days of silent glares back and forth. I hadn't brought it up since.

"I've never thought of it like that," he admitted. Ronan signed after a moment. "If it happens I'll do it. At the very least I'll let everyone know so they can strike if I hesitate again. I promise."

"All right," I said. "That's as much as I can ask. And I _don't_ think we'll have a problem. I just want you to be ready for the worst since I won't be here to help." I sighed, relieved that conversation was over. "Let me go see Avernus, and then we can make camp for the night."

We made our way through the upper floors, leaving most of the group behind. I didn't want to overwhelm the old man by dragging a dozen people into his home. Anders and I finally crossed over to the tower. It was windy out and the high bridge felt far too exposed. I would need to remember to have them raise the walls so someone didn't get blown away. Echoing my thoughts, I could hear Anders mumble something about "deathtrap" and "idiocy" under his breath.

The front room looked much as it did the last time I was here. I knocked on the doorframe of his large laboratory before walking in. "Checking to make sure I'm still alive, I see," he said as I walked across the room.

"Just checking in," I said. "We're going into the Fade tomorrow to fix the veil, so work can start on the Peak."

He looked up, obviously surprised. "So, the Wardens are to return to Soldier's Peak?"

"Eventually," I said. "We're based at Vigil's Keep now, but quickly running out of space."

"You've been busy," he observed. "When we last met the Wardens consisted of you and that… charming young man who made a reference to relieving himself."

"I'm suddenly afraid to tell him what Alistair is up to these days," Anders said.

"I'm old, not _deaf_," he said, shooting a glare at Anders. "I take it he has left the Warden fold?"

"Well… even though he hadn't told me yet when we met you, apparently Alistair was the last known direct heir of Calenhad."

He raised both eyebrows at that, shaking his head. "Wrong side of the sheets, I take it?"

"Oh yeah," I agreed. "But he's actually an excellent king. Which is great since I'm kind of the one who stuck him there."

"So the Wardens are playing with politics once more?" the old mage chuckled.

"No more than I have to," I said. "But they made me an Arlessa. The Wardens own Amaranthine now."

Avernus looked staggered by the very idea. "And the Howe family?"

I told him what Rendon Howe had done during the blight, he looked appalled. "His son came back for vengeance against me. He didn't know the whole story, he does now." I grinned. "He's keeping an eye on everything at home while we're here. Fantastic Warden, I couldn't get a thing done without him."

I climbed the stairs and sat near him. "I'm assuming this isn't a simple courtesy call," he said, sitting down with a groan of exhaustion.

"Well, I wanted to let you know about our plans. I figured if we set off enough magic to send four mages into the fade you'd realize _something_ was going on. Seemed rude not to say in advance. I also wanted copies of your research. I want to make it available to Wardens today."

He looked over at me more appraisingly. "I take it you are the new Warden Commander now? Not simply the only survivor who can find their way out of a tent without assistance?"

"I am," I said. "This is Anders, he's one of the senior Wardens in Ferelden. Well, after you," I added, seeing his wry old-man grin.

They exchanged hellos and Avernus pulled himself to his feet, shuffling over to a cabinet on the wall. He removed several books and a stack of papers. Anders rushed over, taking them from him and helping the elderly mage back to his seat. "I find I'm more and more tired each day," he said slowly. "I'm long past my time. I thought I could hear the call, but when you destroyed the archdemon it went silent once more." He sighed. "I wonder if I'll ever hear it. I think the magic I used to keep going has… cut me off."

"Come back with us," I said suddenly. "Why stay here, all alone? The Keep is a day away and we have a wagon with us."

"I think further east is the last direction I should be moving in," he said. "I'm an old man, but… I'm still a Grey Warden. I have no desire to die in some soft bed like a pampered courtier." He sighed. "I would have left for Orzammar already… truthfully, I don't know if I could make the trip. I've gone on so long, my brothers and sisters have been waiting for me to join them for too many years."

"We can take you to Orzammar," Anders said, resting a hand on his arm. "There's also an old barrier door in the Keep's basements, though, if you'd prefer someplace closer."

He seemed to consider this. "I think I might. I've been to see others off. The dwarves… everything has to be about honor and ceremony with them." He snorted with disdain, waving a hand as if he was dismissing the very concepts. "I don't relish the idea of meeting my end with a gawking crowd of onlookers. Some things should be kept within the order."

He changed the subject to his research, going over everything for me so I could continue it if I wanted. "You," Avernus said, gesturing to Anders. "Get that vial. No, the one next to it, on the left. No, your _other_ left." Anders brought it over and Avernus inspected it before handing it back. "Drink that."

"Why me?" Anders asked.

"Because she already did," he explained. "On her first visit here." I nodded.

"Blood magic?"

"Do you consider the Joining blood magic?"

Anders seemed to think about that for a moment. "Well, it does involve blood and lyrium. But, there's no actual _spells_ used in the process. And it _is _darkspawn blood, not from people, so—"

"Just drink it, boy," Avernus said again, sounding exasperated.

Anders sniffed the concoction. "Is this what made Maggie crazy? Since I don't know if I can keep _both_ of us alive if I end up like her."

"No, she was already… a little off when we met."

I glared at both of them. "Why does everyone constantly say I'm crazy," I protested. "I'm really not."

Anders shrugged and downed the alchemical concoction in one gulp. He doubled over briefly, gasping in pain, before straightening out. "Hm…"

I looked at him, trying to read the expression on his face. It seemed to be… amusement, of all things. "What?"

Anders grinned at me. "I suddenly feel like I could rip an ogre into tiny pieces with my bare hands. Without magic." He stretched and laughed out loud. "Is this how you feel?"

"Basically," I admitted. "It's pretty good, though, isn't it? Like the first few days after the Joining all over again."

"It's amazing," he agreed. "Does it go away eventually?" I shook my head and he stared at me for a moment. "And suddenly half of what I've seen you do in battle makes sense." Anders made a face before muttering, "Maker's breath, this _is_ what made you crazy. _Fantastic_, just what we need."

I looked over at Avernus who was smiling slightly at our exchange. "Do you have any more? We've got ten other Wardens with us."

He shook his head. "I'm out of archdemon blood."

I laughed, reaching into my pocket for a metal flask. "Never leave home without it!"

Anders shook his head. "See, _this, _this exact moment here, is a _prime_ example of why people say you're crazy." Hey, if we found a promising recruit who was tainted and I could say '_a-ha, I have the supplies for the Joining with me now!'_ no one would say I was crazy. They'd just say, wow, she's prepared for anything.

Avernus made me mix everything myself while he walked me through the process. "I hope there are more than a dozen Wardens in Ferelden by now," he said. "You'll need to do this again for whoever is left at home." His eyebrows shot up and he made a small noise when I informed him we were more than sixty strong. I suppose I'd managed to impress him. It seemed to involve blasting it with lightning for a prolonged length of time. Once it was done I had Anders go collect the others.

"You have a Warden who is uncomfortable with blood magic?" he asked when Anders had left.

I shrugged. "Only for himself. I used blood magic on darkspawn the day we met and he healed my hand with barely a word. He gripes a bit sometimes, but always heals me after. I couldn't do as good a job without scarring."

"Ah, a healer," he said with a knowing nod. "That would explain it. The two skills don't seem to coexist cleanly. I feared you recruited a Chantry devotee."

I had to laugh at that. "Hardly. The Chantry tried to kill us both, actually. Decided we were apostates who needed to be brought into line. Broke right into our bedroom when we were visiting the palace once, sent a group of templars into the Deep Roads to ambush us another time. Two Grand Clerics later I think they've learned their lesson. Although I suspect they're still not pleased that I recruited the only surviving templar from the group sent to kill us." That earned me another small grunt of approval. "He has no problem with other unapproved magic, I taught him an ancient Dalish technique that allows mages to fight with blades and spells. It's just blood magic that gets to him."

"Interesting," he said. "Any other unusual skills you managed to pick up?"

"Shapeshifting," I said. "Nothing helpful, though. The mage who taught me could become a bird or a bear, all I can manage is a wolf or a housecat. I might be able to do mabari if I tried, though. I've got one at home I can study."

"I learned a bit of that from a Chasind mage," he offered. "As you said, housecat and mabari, but I never could manage a proper wolf. I did attempt a crow once. Broke my arm trying to fly out the window." Anders returned to find us both laughing at the story of Commander Sophia finding him lying on the grass outside trying to cast a healing spell with his off hand.

"Aren't you glad I won't let you try birds?" Anders said, laughing once Avernus repeated the story. I had to nod in agreement.

I grabbed a handful of vials and filled them quickly, handing one to each Warden. "Drink up!" I told them. "Not poison, no more blood magic than the Joining." Everyone glanced at each other until Anders had also reassured them it was safe. He warned them it would hurt at first, though. I'd forgotten that part.

"See?" I asked.

"Wow," Ronan said finally, shaking his head. Everyone seemed to agree with that sentiment. After brief introductions I wished Avernus goodnight and promised to let him know when we arrived in the morning. When he discovered we planned to camp near the road to be outside the weakened veil's boundaries he insisted on putting us up in the tower. Well, on telling us there were several empty floors below him he hadn't ventured in for years, but were perfectly safe for any of us to use.

We prepared dinner on his small stove, inviting him to join us. Although Avernus sat with us, and actually seemed grateful for the company, he only picked at the food. "I eat very little these days" the mage offered with a shrug.

We all went down a flight to the empty floor below. It was broken into small rooms, mostly unfurnished. Everyone split up, deciding a watch would be unnecessary. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Anders asked me as we curled up in a bare room on our bedrolls.

"Yes," I admitted. I hated the fade. Entering it willingly would be a lot better than going because a demon pulled us in, but I hated it regardless. Dreams were one thing, they were generally safe, the dangers far more obvious. Since your own mind concocted the world in your dreams the demons slipping through tended to stand out. To enter the pure fade itself was something else entirely. That was their world, their territory and place of power.

He was quiet for a moment, running a hand through my hair. "Well, I'm glad it isn't just me, then," he finally said. Neither of us said anything for a long time. I thought Anders had gone to sleep. With his chest pressed to my back and arm around my waist I couldn't see, but since he would usually talk about anything that came into his mind right up until passing out whenever we were on the road the silence was a good indicator. Unfortunately my mind wouldn't stop working so I could rest, too. "Out with it," he finally said.

"I thought you were asleep," I said.

He laughed softly, playing with my hair again. "How could I? You're thinking so loud it's keeping me awake. I can hear you gnawing on your bottom lip. I'm afraid I'll wake up and it'll be gone and, well, that would make kissing you fairly disgusting."

I hit him in the shoulder gently. "Well thanks."

"Hey, at least I'm honest," Anders protested. "Sure, some men would say a missing bottom lip changes nothing. They're liars. Dirty filthy liars. I'd still love you, of course, but it would be strictly kisses on the cheek from that point on." Despite myself I started laughing at that. I didn't know if it was exhaustion, the absurdity of our conversation, or the fact that he actually was being completely honest. "So what is it?" Anders said when I stopped giggling.

Groaning I rolled to my other side so we were facing each other. "Now you've gone and made me laugh. I don't want to spoil it by starting a fight."

He rolled onto his back. "I noticed you looking at me earlier. I figured that would come up." I waited for him to go on. "I've thought about it… a lot, actually. _If_ it ever comes to that, _if _there's no one else who can, I'll make sure they don't take you." He sighed. "I didn't want to promise since, really, odds are I'll just do something absurd and heroic and get myself killed trying to save you. But then I realized I'd have to be able to… do that. Since I'm going with you."

I raised myself up on one elbow, not sure where he thought I was going. "Going with me? What are you talking about?"

He looked at me like I was an idiot. "Orzammar," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course, this is assuming we somehow both miraculously live that long. At the rate we're going I'll admit it's not likely, but you know I always hope for the best."

My first reaction was relief. Relief so overwhelming I wanted to jump up and shout. I hadn't even realized how worried I was about what I would do when my time came, with no one to accompany me, until a chance to avoid that was handed to me. I didn't like thinking I would need anyone's help, but I also knew within moments of the doors closing dozens of darkspawn would close in on me, dragging me off before I could even begin to fight them all. Not only was it the chance to avoid that fate, it was a chance to spend the last days of my life in the company of the one person I loved more than anything else, the man who hadn't left my side for anything more than a few hours at a stretch since the first time we spoke.

Relief didn't arrive alone, though. Guilt was fast on its tail, hitting me like an ogre at full charge. "What?" I said, shocked as I realized what Anders was actually offering. "No." I shook my head. "No, you can't do that. You joined more than three years after I did, I can't ask you to cut your life short for me!"

Anders just stared up at me calmly. "Do you think I just came up with this now? I've been thinking about it for months, ever since the day we went into the Deep Roads with the Wardens from Orlais." He waved a hand dismissively. "Three years isn't so long," he said. "Not when I'll be a sad old man, shuffling around the Keep like an idiot since I wouldn't know what to do without you around. Maker's breath, Maggie, I can't even put my own armor on without your help. You expect me to spend three years asking Nathaniel to buckle me up?" He laughed at that. "And really, it's not _that _big a deal. From what Alain said odds are I won't _get _three years longer than you. You were so young when you joined, you'll probably get a long time. I was almost thirty already. That's old enough that there's even a chance my time will come before yours anyways."

"I doubt that," I said. Although he was right about his age, Anders was in better shape at thirty than some of our recruits had been at twenty. Most likely from all the running he did to escape the templars for so many years.

"And if it does?" he asked. "Would you come with me?"

"Of course," I answered quickly and without thinking. After the words were out I did think about it for a moment. Considering that the one time I thought I had lost him inspired me to commit a dramatic suicidal gesture I suspected if I didn't go with him I'd be dead within days anyway.

"Then why are we even having this horrible, depressing conversation?" he asked.

I settled back onto the bedroll next to him. "Thank you," I whispered after a moment. "You know I love you, right?"

"Andraste's knickerweasels, I should certainly hope so!" he replied with a chuckle.

* * *

_Awwww, dangerously codependent people with abandonment complexes in love. My poor broken mages. And I have over 200 reviews? If I was wearing a hat it would be zooming across the room right now, I assure you! I adore you all!_


	46. Something nice to look at while fighting

Anders and I were the last to join the others upstairs for breakfast. Jowan looked at us with an amused expression. "You know, next time I knock on a door and you call 'almost ready' can you wait until I have time to get a little further away before… continuing? I didn't need to hear Maggie making that noise."

Anders grinned, sitting down and helping himself to some oatmeal. "You're just jealous you can't get your wife to sound like that. Be nice and maybe I'll tell you what I was doing."

Jowan rolled his eyes. "Did I suddenly grow up in the Chantry? I've got _no_ problems as far as that area of my marriage is concerned."

"Is this how you all compensate for having to wear dresses?" Arthur said, laughing.

Dermott stood up and glared at him, muttering "I'll remember that one" as he walked away to talk with Rose.

"Oh, come on, it was a joke. I didn't mean anything by it," I could hear Arthur chasing Dermott across the room.

"And to think," Anders said, "he was terrified of mages when we met him." We giggled watching Arthur plead for forgiveness. "I really don't understand how that even started."

I shrugged. "Dermott was gutsy enough to smart-mouthed the Knight-Commander in front of us, the First Enchanter and Cullen. I get the feeling he wouldn't let something like a little fear of mages get in his way." I looked over at them arguing. "Don't make me order you to kiss and make up," I shouted. "We have more to do today than squabble."

Avernus wished us luck and asked that I come back when we were done. He looked, well, old. Old and exhausted. I think having so many visitors was taking a lot out of him. When I met him he seemed so much younger and more alive. To be fair, he seemed as old as Andraste then, but now he looked to be older than the Maker Himself. I suspected he had stopped whatever he was doing to keep himself alive. He had said he couldn't continue as he had been. Perhaps this was the result of his new, more ethical, approach.

His experiments had horrified me, but who was I to decide what 'any means necessary' was for another Warden? His potion had killed innocents, certainly, but I'm sure the first Wardens went through dozens if not hundreds of people before they discovered the proper combination to create one of us instead of a ghoul. I'd already seen my commanding officer cut a man down for refusing the Joining after another died from the corruption at that point. That alone told me more than anything else about how cold we needed to be if we were to succeed. Maker's breath, how many had I killed since then with a chalice full of poison? I couldn't be his judge, then or now, no more than I'd want someone else to be mine.

Wynne, of course, had objected. She didn't say what she wanted me to do, but I suspect if I had killed him she would have complained about that, too. Which really just left turning him over to a templar. I'd sooner eat broken glass than turn anyone over to those bastards, and even if I didn't hate them on general principle I knew getting a centuries old Warden mage preserved by blood magic would shine a very bright uncomfortable light on mages in the Wardens as a whole.

I suppose her reaction was to be expected, but it made me furious. I had turned on her in camp that evening, telling her very clearly that as far as the rules of the order were concerned, Avernus was in the right. Alistair, to my surprise confirmed what I said when she went to him after. She expressed fears that I was 'morally unfit' to lead us, apparently. When he told me that I just went after her again, saying that unless she wanted to _become_ a Grey Warden she had no business questioning anything involving the rules of the order, and that if she had a problem with me Circle tower was on our way to Haven and we could part ways there. I got a tight-lipped assurance that we would have no further problems, but she glared at me for weeks.

Moira walked over to where Anders, Jowan and I were sitting. "What kind of demon do you think it'll be?" she asked, sounding nervous.

"Desire, hopefully," I said quickly. "Something attracted to Sophia's desire for revenge and power. That's the best case scenario."

Anders chuckled. "Well, rage would be the best case scenario, but I don't think that's likely."

"And the worst-case?" she asked.

"Pride," Anders replied quickly, knowing I would dance around the point. "Most likely, I think, given the diaries and notes. She was a proud woman, too proud to admit defeat, proud enough to manipulate the Wardens into fighting her personal battles."

The young apostate paled. "They're tough, but we can do it," I told her, trying to sound reassuring. Honestly, I wasn't excited about meeting a pride demon in the fade. I'd fought them just twice before, both Uldred and the Baroness who destroyed Blackmarsh were possessed by that variety of demon. They were huge, but more than that, they were powerful. "All right, here's our plan," I said, hoping if we had an idea of what we would do things would go smoother. "Anyone who has _any_ affinity for cold or petrify spells, keep it immobilized. Crushing prison, paralysis, anything like that, too. It'll probably resist a good chunk of them, keep trying. If we can keep it locked in place we can just chip away with weapons and other offensive spells without being attacked ourselves."

"I'll try and keep a hex on it," Jowan offered. "Make it more vulnerable to whatever we can throw at the thing." I nodded in agreement. After hammering out more details we all stood up, walking over to the Peak's main building. Aidan poured a generous amount of pure refined lyrium into a bowl, setting it on the floor. I stretched out on my stomach, elbows propped up below my chin. I was the only one lying down, everyone else was sitting up in a circle around the bowl.

"Do you think that's wise?" I asked. "When you fall you could kick over enough lyrium to buy Denerim twice over." They settled to the floor, Anders mimicking my position, Jowan and Moira on their sides.

"You _may_ end up in someone's version of the fade," Aidan warned us. "Or split up in your own minds. If so, just open a portal. You'll all end up in the same location of the pure fade." We all nodded and waited for the ritual to begin. At the proper time the four of us dipped our hands in the lyrium. I thought I heard someone gasping, but couldn't tell. Already everyone in the room sounded distant, like words heard through water. My head felt stuffed with cotton and my stomach churned, I clenched my eyes shut waiting for the feeling to pass. _Maker, I really hate the fade,_ I thought briefly before opening them once again.

I was sitting in a meadow, a small cottage stood on a hill not far from me. The colors were washed out, like an old painting. The flowers had no smell. Not my dream, that's for sure. "There you are," called a voice. Anders jogged over to me. "So, whose head are we in?"

"Not mine," I said. "Isolated cottages and fields aren't my idea of a good dream. I don't remember most of mine. I think they usually involve parties, or killing all the darkspawn. Or, you know, the filthy sort. Those are always fun."

He chuckled. "I'm not surprised. Well, it isn't mine. I don't see my harem of gorgeous naked-" he paused then, looking over at me. "you. Harem of gorgeous naked you. Yep." I giggled at that, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.

"Nice recovery," I laughed. "Moira, maybe?" I suggested. "I don't know her well enough to guess. Or Jowan. He has this odd affection for simple country life." I shrugged. "Want to open the portal, or should I?"

"And miss a chance to see whose head we're in? I don't think so!" Anders headed up the hill, laughing as he ran. I chased after him.

"Come on," I said when we reached the cottage. "This is someone's dream. We should go, it's not our business." I wondered vaguely if the ability to sense other Wardens carried through to the fade. I closed my eyes and felt the presence of Anders next to me, answering that question. Reaching out with my mind I realized I couldn't sense any others. "Whoever it is isn't even here," I said. "They're either already in the pure fade, or in someone else's dream still. We're the only ones."

The cottage door swung open before Anders could reply. I turned to look inside and gasped, realizing immediately whose dream I was in. "Maggie! Oh, it's so nice to see you. Who is your friend?"

"Lily," I managed to choke out after a moment. _Not real not real, _I reminded myself. _She's dead or in Aeonar, this is just the fade. _My chest ached realizing that six years later he was still tormented by this. _Oh, poor Jowan_. "Is… is Jowan here?"

"Not yet," she said cheerfully. "He should be home soon. Come in and wait with me, he'll be so excited to see his dear little sister came for a visit!"

"No, no, that's all right," I stammered. "We have to go… into town. We'll come back later."

"All right," she smiled. "I'll let him know you stopped by."

The fade-Lily closed the door and I headed back down the hill, towards the area where we first came into the fade. "I'm sorry," Anders said when we were away from the cottage. "We should have left. Don't worry, I won't tell him."

I nodded, wiping my eyes. "Thanks," I managed. "Oh Maker, poor Jowan. If only we'd been faster, none of this would have happened." I made a face. "It's my fault. I dug through the whole repository for interesting stuff. Irving and Greagoir arrived just as we were leaving. If I hadn't done that they would have been gone before anyone knew." I groaned. "Maker's breath, I stopped to chat with a sodding _statue_."

"You don't know that," Anders said. "Those bastards love getting the jump on people. They were probably waiting just out of sight for the sound of the door opening."

I shrugged. "Maybe. Let's get out of here." He quickly raised a hand, opening a portal, and we stepped through.

"Finally," Moira said as we stepped out next to her. "I've been sitting here alone for ages. Did you end up in a dream?"

"Yeah," I said. "Any sign of Jowan yet?"

"Not yet," she said. We joined her in waiting. I looked around, seeing transparent ghosts of Wardens long dead wandering around aimlessly. Bits of furniture were scattered around, twisted almost beyond recognition or hovering in the air.

"Over there," Anders said, gesturing. I looked and saw an almost exact duplicate of the room from the Peak at the center of the island. "I suspect that's where we'll find our demon."

Jowan joined us a moment later, laughing as he stepped through a fade portal. "Well that was interesting," he said.

"Oh?" Anders asked.

"I just spent quite a bit of time chatting with Maggie. Took me a bit to realize she hadn't gone completely insane, it was a fade dream of her from his head." Jowan pointed at Anders and snickered.

I glanced over at Anders, he shrugged. "Please tell me I was wearing clothes," I said.

"Don't worry," he said. "I would have figured it out a lot sooner if you were naked. By which I mean I would have opened a portal the second I saw you. I'd never be able to look at you the same way again." Jowan walked past me and cupped a hand around his mouth, whispering something to Anders, who blushed. I _really_ wonder what that dream was now, to get a reaction like that from him.

"What?" I asked, looking at them.

Jowan only laughed again while Anders rushed ahead, muttering "demons don't kill themselves, come on."

We walked through the fade, trying to ignore the warped and twisted trees and structures around us, the horrifying statues of malformed creatures. "Wardens?" someone called. I stopped and looked behind me.

"Commander Sophia?" I said, shocked.

"Maybe not…" Jowan whispered low enough that only the four of us could hear. "Be careful."

"I… yes," she replied. "Or, I was. I think? I've been here for so long. Months? Years? Tell me, what happened to Ferelden? What of Arland?"

"I don't know what happened to Arland," I said, not surprised but vaguely annoyed that she asked about her rebellion before asking about the status of the Wardens. "It's been… a very long time."

"I remember we were fighting," she said, looking confused. "Avernus, he summoned demons. I ordered him to call more, and they… turned on us. One struck me down. When I woke up I was in this place." She looked at us. "You _are_ Grey Wardens, are you not? Your accents are Ferelden, but I don't know your faces." What she said was feasible. There was a possibility the demon that took her body, the one I killed, had forced her spirit into the Fade. It didn't happen often, but I'd read about it. Or, she was a demon and this was a ploy. She looked at us carefully. "How long has it been? You said a long time. How long?"

"What year was it when you fought the king's forces?" Anders asked her.

"Why, the tenth year of Storm Age, of course. Has that much already been forgotten? It couldn't be that long."

I spoke slowly, not sure yet if this _was_ Sophia Dryden and worried about traumatizing her if that was the case. "Right now it is the thirty-sixth year of the Dragon age. Before Dragon was the Blessed age, and before that Storm."

She stared at me before sitting roughly on the ground. "Merciful Andraste. More than two hundred years have passed? I've been here that long?" She looked up at me. "Please, what became of Ferelden? Is she safe?"

"Orlais invaded, about a hundred years ago," Jowan said, causing her to gasp in horror. "They were finally driven out at the end of the Blessed Age by King Maric, son of Moira the Rebel Queen." He shrugged. "They were descendants of Calenhad, but I don't know if they had any relation to Arland. Both were deeply beloved by the people of Ferelden, though."

"Maric is the one restored the Grey Wardens to Ferelden," I added pointedly. "The order had been banished after your rebellion."

"None too soon, either," Anders said, his voice just as loaded as mine. "Since the fifth blight began not even twenty years later."

"Maric's son King Cailin was killed six years ago," I added. "At one of the first battles against the darkspawn."

She jumped to her feet at that. "A blight? But… we must go! How do I leave this place? If there is a blight my sworn duty is to fight it."

"It's over," I said quickly. "Three years ago. I was only feet away when the archdemon was destroyed. The other Warden who survived the first battle was an illegitimate son of Maric. He's now King Alistair, since Cailin had no heir."

She relaxed hearing that. "I notice you did not tell me how I can leave this place," the commander said after a moment.

"You can't," Anders said. "Or, at least, not back into the physical world. It's been over two hundred years, you have no body to return to." He sighed. "You need to let go. Your own will is keeping you here."

"And then?" she asked. "Where will I be then?"

"Wherever any of us go when we're done," Anders said. "None of us know the answer to that any more than you."

"I…. yes, I know you're right. I don't know how, but I know that to be true. This place, it does things to your mind. It's not of the Maker." She sighed and looked at me again. "Please, before that, tell me one thing. My son, what became of him? Arland didn't seek revenge on my baby, did he?" Tears shone in her eyes at the thought of that.

"He lived," I assured her. "I don't know what became of him, other than that he lived and had children of his own. I know your descendant, Levi Dryden. He's a good man. From what I know he has many cousins, and they all have many children of their own. Your family lives on."

She beamed hearing that and embraced me tightly, to my shock. "Thank you," she said. "I can rest knowing that." A moment later Commander Sophia was gone, vanished as though she had never been there.

"Well that was unexpected," I said.

"Very," Anders agreed. "You think it was really her?"

"Maybe," I said. "She didn't try to talk us into anything. Certainly knew her own history, and asking about Arland first would be in keeping with what we know about her."

"I don't trust it," Jowan said. Moira nodded in agreement.

I sighed. "It's the fade, I don't trust my own sodding reflection here. Let's keep moving." We came to the area that mimicked the Peak at last. The images of Wardens still surrounded us, but they seemed completely unaware of our presence. I wondered vaguely if they were the actual souls of the men and women who fell that day when the veil was damaged, or just an echo of some kind. Hopefully the latter, for all their sakes.

A pedestal stood at the center, surrounded by churning black clouds. "There," I said. "Like Blackmarsh. We have to destroy it. When we start I bet the demon will show up." I set off a few spells experimentally. As I predicted a desire demon revealed herself within seconds.

"Now, now," she cooed, hovering near us. "There are easier ways to get my attention."

"Not as fun, though," Anders laughed, launching another lightning bolt at the pedestal.

"Tsk, tsk," she said, looking at him. "And here I thought you were the _healer_, the one who _saves_ lives. She's the killer, not you. All she's good at, really. Killing and screwing. It's certainly the only reason you can stand to be around her. Someone to warm your bed and keep the templars at bay for you, no? It's so sad, though, she's slowly making you more and more like her. How much longer before you start cutting yourself—" She was cut off with a howl of pain as Jowan blasted her with lightning.

"Maggie, can you _shut her up_?" Anders demanded, snapping me to attention. I hit the demon with a frost spell before she could attempt to strike up a deal with him. While the others focused on the pedestal I alternated between striking her with my daggers and casting ice spells to keep her from returning my attack.

"Is that it?" Jowan said once the demon was gone and the pedestal destroyed. "Seems… too easy."

"I really can't stand them," Anders said, looking down at the body with contempt. "Please tell me you didn't believe a word of that."

"Of course not," I said. I'd heard every word of it, though, and was sure it would be rattling around in my mind for weeks to come if not longer. But, there was no reason to say anything now. And demons lied, after all. Everyone knew that. I'd be reminding myself over and over and over again as I replayed what she said in my mind, no doubt. I pushed it from my thoughts for now, though. The fade was the last place I should be having a mental crisis.

Moira looked down at the fallen demon. "I wish they'd put some clothes on. Or send us a male variety. I wouldn't mind looking at a desire demon with nice big arms and muscular thighs. And a backside you could bounce a copper off." I tried to picture that and found I wasn't quite able to without smiling. "I mean, of course I would still kill it, but it would be something nice to look at while fighting. Much better than genlocks. Or Lady No-Shirt over here."

"I don't think I like this conversation," Anders said, making a face.

"Want to go find your harem?" I teased.

"All right, all right," he said. "Let's just finish here and get out." The four of us continued exploring the small island, finding nothing else that would impact the physical world.

"I think that's it," I said. "Huh. I thought it would be harder. One desire demon?"

Jowan shrugged. "Don't question good fortune."

I began to open the portal that would take us back to our bodies when a sound caught my ear. Cutting off the spell midway I went to investigate the noise. As we got closer it became more defined, or as much as anything was here. It was a woman crying. "Sophia?" I asked, looking in the small, twisted tent-like structure. She looked up at me and flushed, wiping her face quickly.

"It didn't work," she said. "I tried, but… I'm still here. I'm still here, and I'll never get out! I'll be here until I go so mad I don't even care anymore."

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I wish there was some way for us to help you."

She shrugged helplessly. "You don't know of any other way out?"

"No," I said flatly.

"You're the Commander now?" I nodded. "I can tell," she said, leaning towards me and lowering her voice as though we were giggling apprentices in the tower sharing a secret after lights out. "The others, they let you speak first. They look for you to act, and follow without question. That's the best way to lead." She smiled. "That's how I tried to lead. Never give orders, just make people trust you enough that they follow you without being told."

"I don't really think about it," I admitted.

"I could help you," she said suddenly. "I was raised to be a leader. I was almost queen! I could help you with the Wardens, make them a powerful force to be feared and respected, just like they deserve. We could make _you_ a force to be feared and respected. If you could help me get out of this horrid place we could bring the Grey Wardens to new heights, power no one has ever dreamed of." _Ah, there it is. _I should have guessed as much.

I chuckled. "Impressive."

"Pardon?"

"Impressive," I said. "I really thought you were Sophia Dryden, right up until the end. I must say, nice job. You did your research on her, I can respect that. Shame you didn't do any research on me."

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," the demon wearing Sophia's face said, looking confused.

I laughed out loud then. "Stupid sodding demons. I'm far more respected than anyone with my job deserves to be, and if fear was worth coin I could buy Val Royeaux itself. I'm a _mage,_ of course I'm feared. I've been feared since I was four years old, and I can't stand it!" I looked at it with contempt, stepping back from the tent. "And power? Please. The real Sophia Dryden's lust for power destroyed the Ferelden Wardens, we're _still_ not recovered from the damage a desire for power did to us." I walked back to stand with the others, shaking my head. "Come on, let's get this over with. Do your whole 'I will destroy you,' thing so we can go home for lunch."

"I knew it," Jowan muttered.

"Very well," the demon said, slipping off the mask and showing us its true form. "Foolish mage, I could have given you gifts beyond your imagination. You are so obsessed with your silly little order that you refuse to see the bigger picture. For all your bravado you cannot stand against me. I wi—"

"Right," I said cutting it off by freezing the demon solid and stabbing with both daggers. The others threw themselves into battle with me. As it began to move again Jowan quickly captured it in a crushing prison spell, followed by a hex of vulnerability. I froze the demon once again and we resumed our attack.

We fought the demon for a long time, eventually resorting to blades alone as most of us ran low on energy. Finally, though, it groaned, called me a fool one last time, and fell forward. I glanced at everyone. We were all on our feet, but showing obvious signs of a long and difficult fight.

"They always do that," Anders muttered. "Go on about how they'll destroy us leaving a great big opening we can attack in. How they think it helps I'll never know. It boggles the mind." He smiled. "Since it helps us I guess I can't complain."

"I wonder if that ever works," I mused.

"I'm not going to bother healing anyone, we should all be fine as soon as we get back. Everyone's all right to walk?" We all confirmed that and I finally opened the portal. Stepping through, I braced myself for the discomfort of returning to my body, closing my eyes.

I opened my eyes once more to see Aidan looking down at me. There was also the unmistakable sound of someone being very sick. I'd heard of that before. Apparently some mages didn't react well to the high quantity of lyrium. "You certainly took your time," he laughed. I stretched and sat up. Anders was already on his feet and took my hand, pulling me to mine. Jowan and Moira were both sitting, looking ill.

"Everything go all right over here?" I asked.

"Ritual worked like a charm," Aidan said.

"Except we all ended up in the wrong dreams," Jowan said. "I was in Anders' head. It was an… enlightening experience."

I could already feel the change at the Peak and commented on it before the dream conversation could continue.

Dermott nodded. "I could tell when you killed it. The ghosts disappeared." He looked exhausted, all the mages did. Dermott slowly climbed to his feet, Arthur rushing over and offering him an arm to lean on. "I'm starving," he said.

"What time is it?" Jowan asked.

"Late," Rose offered. "Well after sundown. We were nervous, but Ronan kept telling us this was normal."

"And I was right," he said. "Thank you for not ending up possessed, by the way. I appreciate it."

"Always happy to help," Anders said, grabbing me by the hand and leading everyone towards the tower.

* * *

_I swear, it's so hot out my brain refuses to function normally. Thanks so much for the reviews, I adore them! _


	47. We're both horrible people

"You never did tell me where you ended up when we got to the fade," Jowan said over dinner.

"Later," I said quickly. "After dinner I'll tell you."

A few people looked up at that. "Is… it bad?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I hate the fade. I'd like to eat and not think about it for a bit." I stared down as though my camp stew was the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen. I didn't even _want_ to tell Jowan what we saw, but thought I should. If Lily was still on his mind enough that he was dreaming of her, well, maybe talking to someone would help. It certainly didn't seem like the kind of thing he would talk to Nora about, after all, and other than briefly asking me if I knew what happened to Lily when I saw him at Redcliffe for the first time, her name had never been mentioned by either of us. I didn't like her even in the short time we'd met, I'll admit that. I thought she was bought into the Chantry fears about magic a bit too much for someone who loved a mage, and she ordered him around like he was a small child, not a grown man. I don't think I could ever really forgive her for abandoning him when he outed himself as a blood mage just to protect her. But I also felt guilt that he and I were living relatively comfortable lives, without any real repercussions from what happened, while she paid the price.

"Fair enough," he said before getting pulled into a conversation with Anders, Arthur, and Roland.

"No, there has to be some trick," Roland said. "I've traveled with you for months. How do you do it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anders insisted.

"You too," Arthur said, turning to Jowan. "How do you do that?"

"Do _what_?" he asked.

"The stubble! How do you two constantly have just the slightest hint of stubble? Is it some mage thing?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Anders said. "I shave when I wake up. Just ask Maggie." I tried to remember if I ever saw Anders without any stubble and couldn't think of it. I'd seen him with _more_ facial hair, but never with none. The same could be said for Jowan, come to think of it. Well, since he could grow facial hair, at least. I started to wonder if there _was_ some trick to it.

"Same here," Jowan said. "Ask Nora when we get back. Or ask Maggie now."

"Woah," Roland said suddenly, "are you two…" His eyes went wide and he grinned, looking from Jowan to me to Anders and back again.

"What?" Jowan said. "No! Just… no. We used to live next to each other in the apprentice dorm, she saw me every morning for breakfast. _That's_ how she would know. Maker's breath, I'm a married man! Quite happily, I might add." he shook his head, looking horrified.

"Roland!" Moira shouted in horror. "That's _disgusting_. They're brother and sister, you really think they would be sleeping together?"

"No they're not," Rose said.

"What? Yes they are," Dermott argued

"No, we're really not," I said. "Friends. Not related."

"You're not?" Moira asked.

"Nope," Jowan said. "Why do people keep asking that?"

I shrugged. "No idea. Better that than the sleeping together thing, though." He laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Because you look alike," Rose said. "Same hair, same nose, even a bit around the mouth. I might have thought the same thing, but I figured if that was the case Maggie would have mentioned it the first time we met you."

"He doesn't look a thing like me," I said. "Where is everyone getting that?" Jowan's noise was… pointy. I didn't have a pointy nose!

"Actually," Jowan said, "I'm older than you. So it would be that _you_ look like _me_. Although I don't see it, either."

Anders stared at both of us. "Not seeing it," he said after a moment.

"You know who looks even more like they could be related?" Ronan said suddenly, grinning at Anders. "You… and the king."

"What?" he said. "I don't look a bit like Alistair." Everyone turned to look at him and began muttering in surprise.

"I never saw it before, but yeah…" Aidan said. "Kind of disturbing, actually. You've got the same nose."

"Can't we go back to teasing Maggie and Jowan?" Anders said, making a face. "Now that I think about it I can see a resemblance. Glad for it, too. I'd prefer that than wondering just how close they used to be."

"You could have just _asked_," I said. "It's not even half as sordid as you might fear."

"She once crawled into my bed and took off her robes," Jowan said, causing Anders' jaw to drop.

"I did not!" I protested.

"Yes you did," he replied. "It was during that heat wave. You said the robes were too hot." Anders stared at me in shock as I laughed, now remembering what Jowan was talking about.

"I don't remember any heat wave," he said.

"You weren't at the tower yet," I said. "I was _five_ at the time." I rolled my eyes. "And those robes were hot. Who dresses children in wool during a heat wave? Even I know better than that!" I made a face. "Especially the cheap wool they used. Those things got scratchy."

"No wonder it took nothing more than a smile to get you out of them when you got older," Jowan said, laughing. I gave him a dirty look. It took more than that. Well, sometimes. And I usually didn't take them off, anyways. Sneaking off to a corner where the templars wouldn't see you didn't lend itself well to total nudity, after all. I was beginning to see the downside of recruiting Jowan. He was a wealth of embarrassing childhood stories. Stories he, apparently, had no problem sharing with anyone who would listen.

"Why did I not just feed you to the templars?" I asked him.

"I have _no_ idea. I guess it's your sentimental streak." He gave me a devilish grin. "I was your first kiss, after all."

I stared at him blankly. "What? No you weren't. It was Brennan, I remember. I had just learned the spell for a blizzard and told him, and he said I was brilliant and kissed me. I think I was two or three and ten." Granted, that was after someone else had tried a few years earlier. I barely knew what a kiss was at the time and thought he was going to attack me, so I hit him with lightning. Needless to say, it didn't work out.

"No, it was before that," Jowan said. "And I think you were eleven. You were moping around whining that you'd end up a bitter old spinster because Bridget got her first kiss, and I told you I didn't see what the big deal was since I hadn't kissed anyone yet, either, so you said—"

"Ohhh… now I remember," I said. "Oh Maker, it was awful. No wonder I blocked it out."

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Jowan said. "Apart from the weirdness of it being _you_."

"We bumped noses and you drooled all over me!"

"Like you were any better," he said. "You _bit _me!"

"She still bites," Anders said, grinning now that he realized Jowan and I didn't have a romantic past to speak of.

"Well I'm glad she found someone who appreciates it. I certainly didn't." He shook his head. "I remember Brennan. You two were on and off for years..." I winced. I remembered Brennan as well. I remembered the last moment I saw him, and the last time we spoke. I'd also done my best not to think about it since. "What happened to him? You ever see him again?"

"I'd rather… not talk about it," I said, my voice cracking slightly. Anders glanced over at me and I shook my head. If he asked later I would tell him, but I'd really not think too deeply about how with most of the young mages and older apprentices being killed in the rebellion at the tower almost every man I'd ever slept with was dead. While it was purely coincidental, it was a fairly disturbing thought. I noticed Moira was staring at me with a strange expression on her face as well.

After dinner most of our group went to bed. Anders gave me a strange look before he left Jowan and I sitting alone, on the pretext of saying going to work with Aidan on healing magic and help Avernus pack up for the trip home with us. "So, where did you end up? You never did say."

"Anders and I were in the same place," I said. "There was a hill with flowers on it, and a cottage…"

"Oh," he said flatly. "That one."

"Are you all right?" I asked him. He didn't look all right at the moment, he looked miserable and embarrassed. "I mean, we've never talked about it, not since Redcliffe, and not much then."

Jowan shrugged. "I'm fine. I mean, I'm here, I'm free… I have no right to complain."

"Don't give me that," I muttered. "You're allowed to be upset. I mean, it's still on your mind, clearly."

Jowan sighed and stared forward at the ground. "I just… wish there was some way to go back and fix things. Nothing I do now can help, but she's in Aeonar or Maker knows where else, all because of me." I watched him from the corner of my eye. He was staring down, clearly not wanting to look at anyone and wringing his hands. "I still think about her. I mean, every time I do I feel horrible, I feel like I'm betraying Nora, but I can't help it. I love Nora, I really do, but I still love Lily. And I destroyed her entire life."

"I don't think that's unusual," I said. "I mean, if you loved someone and they died, you could move on, but that wouldn't change what you used to have." I shrugged, not sure what to say. Romantic advice wasn't exactly my specialty. "And it isn't all your fault," I said. "If anything, it's mine. I kept slowing us down, if we were faster getting to your phylactery…"

He looked at me and made a face. "Maggie, you've been taking the blame for everything we did since we were kids. I'm a grown man, I can handle it. This is _my_ fault. I'm the one who learned blood magic, I'm the one who didn't tell her. Even if we got out in time, what would have happened if she found out?" I started to protest but Jowan shushed me and went on. "I shouldn't have even _asked_ you to help us. A day after your harrowing and I've got you running around the basements breaking the law, and lying to you the whole time? If that Warden hadn't been there… I hate to think of what they would have done to you." He sighed. "Actually, no, I know _exactly_ what they would have done to you. Tortured you for days or weeks to get some kind of confession, left you alone with a few of the worst templars so they could have some 'fun' and then hung you." He looked over at me. "You know, Anders is lucky. Any women locked up like he was… well, they wouldn't be able to look back and laugh." He made a face. "I know people in the mages' collective, you wouldn't _believe_ some of the stories the apostates who escaped their 'justice' can tell."

"That doesn't really surprise me," I said. "And technically you never lied to me. I didn't ask if the rumor was true."

"True," he said. "Why didn't you?"

"You _really_ want to know?" I asked him.

"Obviously. I asked, didn't I?"

"Because I thought if you were you would have told me. You never hid anything from me before, I couldn't even fathom you keeping something that big from me." I shrugged. "That, and you couldn't _stand_ the sight of blood."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's the past," I told him. "I've long since forgiven you for that." I thought for a moment. "I can try and see what happened to Lily if you'd like." Irving might be able to tell me, or perhaps even Leliana. She was exposed to a lot of Chantry secrets with her work on the Urn.

"Maybe," he said. "Let me think about it. I mean, I don't know what good it would do. Finding out she's in Aeonar, well, I certainly can't break her out. If she's out I might see her to apologize, but I doubt that's the case." He laughed sadly. "What could I say? Sorry I lied to you and ruined your life? What happened to me? I've got a beautiful wife and a gorgeous daughter. Oh, and I'm a Grey Warden now so my boss is my best friend and I never have to worry about the templars coming after me. It hardly seems fair."

"Is anything?" I asked. He only shrugged.

"Thanks," Jowan said after a moment. "I feel a bit better." He looked over at me with concern. "You're not going to let what that demon said get to you, are you?"

"I'm going to try not to," I said. "I know they lie."

"You know what I think?" he asked. "I think she wasn't trying to talk to him at all. She was trying to throw you off guard. She probably knew you were the biggest danger there, and wanted a way to make you unable to focus and attack. They can figure out our biggest fears as easily as they know our desires."

"Could be," I agreed. "I like that idea better, that's for sure."

"What happened to you," he asked with a smirk. "You used to practically chew boys up when we were apprentices. I can't even count how many came to me asking for help winning you back. Now look at yourself." He laughed at that, poking me in the side. "I knew he'd be trouble for you. Told you myself."

"You did," I agreed. "And I knew it, too. What can I say, I'm a weak, weak woman."

Jowan laughed at that. "Nothing new there."

"So what dream were you in?" I asked, insanely curious. I had been in it, after all. "You sure it was Anders'? I mean, if I was fully clothed…"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, since that's _clearly_ the only thing between you. If that was all he cared about Anders would be joining Aidan carousing in the city every night. So would you, for that matter." Jowan put an arm around my shoulders, laughing. "I really hate to be the one to break it to you, but it seems like at some point we all grew up."

"Now _that_ is a horrifying thought," I said.

"Isn't it?" he said. "Especially you. I wake up in a sweat every time I realize you're actually the Commander of the Grey _and_ an Arlessa. Horrifying indeed."

"Oh, thank you," I said, elbowing him. "Come on, you talked to a dream version of me. What did I say? What was I wearing?" I was curious if I would have been in my armor or robes. Robes, I suspected. Anders had expressed a preference for them on more than one occasion.

"A… dress. A fancy dress. You didn't say much of anything, just small talk. That's why it took me so long to figure out what was going on."

"A _dress_? Not robes, an actual dress?"

"Oh yeah," he said. "Dress. Totally. I have seen them before, I know what they are. I didn't leave the tower yesterday, you know."

"All right, all right," I said. "So, I was wearing a dress and making small talk? Like, 'horrible weather we're having, Ferelden smells like dogs?'"

He laughed at that. "You know you love dogs," Jowan teased. "I've heard you complain no less than five times since we left about wanting to go home to your puppy." That was true. Although I was happy that Isolde was almost big enough to start traveling with me soon. I told her as much when I put her in the kennel before we left. It seemed to stomp out her whines of protest at being left behind this time.

"I'm not denying it," I said. "But, when people make small talk it's always complaints about the weather and the dogs. Oh, and mud."

"Nah, more like, 'nice to see you, how's the baby, how's your wife, glad you were able to come' things like that."

"Was anyone else there? Able to come? Where were we?"

"Not saying anything else," Jowan said. "I promised Anders." I made a face at him but didn't argue. I knew the tone of voice well enough, I could argue until I was blue in the face and he wouldn't say a word. "I think he's being absurd, it wasn't anything _bad,_ it wasn't really anything at all,but he made me swear. I don't want to get on his bad side, not only is he a senior warden but there's a rumor he's sleeping with the commander."

I laughed at that. "Very funny."

"I have my moments," Jowan said. "So, what did happen to Brennan?"

"He's dead," I sighed. "The Uldred thing." That was _technically_ true.

"I'm sorry," Jowan said.

"Yeah, me too."

I got up to find Anders. He wasn't in the room we were using. I found Aidan who told me he hadn't seen him since dinner, either. After a search of the tower I began to head over to the main part of the Peak. I found him laying on the bridge, staring up at the stars. "Nice night, isn't it?" I said, sitting next to him.

"It is," he said. "The air feels cleaner here than at home. Must be the mountains."

I glanced over at him. He was chewing on a fingernail. "What's bugging you?"

"Nothing, really," Anders said. "Just watching the stars."

"Enjoying the fresh mountain air?" I said with a grin. Anders wasn't much of a liar. The left side of his mouth always twitched a tiny bit after. Something was clearly on his mind other than the view.

He laughed at that. "Maybe. I'm thinking about the Fade. Had a chat with Jowan while you and Rose were cooking, it's on my mind. He didn't tell you, did he?"

"No," I said. "Although he did say you were being silly by asking him not to." I was even more curious now.

Anders grinned at that. "Maybe I am. He's a good guy, I'm glad he joined us. It's a shame you can't tell people you're maleficar, you two would do wonders for their image."

"For the hour before we were ripped limb from limb by everyone in Ferelden at once," I laughed. "Deft subject change, by the way."

He sat up and smiled again. "If you liked that one wait until you hear my next." Anders cleared his throat theatrically. "Who's Brennan?"

"I don't know, it lacks the natural flow of your first one," I said. "And he's dead. Nothing you need to worry about."

Anders shrugged. "You never mentioned him. You mentioned Zevran, but never him."

"There wasn't as much to mention as far as he and I were concerned. We'd be together for a few weeks, one of us would do something to get the other angry, we wouldn't talk for months at a stretch, and then we'd start all over again. We were actually only _together_ for something like a year, and even then only if you added up all the time over a decade." I stared out over the walkway at the mountains. Anders shifted closer to me, putting an arm around my waist.

"There's more to it," he said. "I can tell something's bothering you."

"I don't think you want to know," I said. "You won't like it." More than that, I didn't think he'd like me very much once he heard the whole story.

"Come on," Anders said with a chuckle. "You always feel better after a good rant. And whenever you tell me I wouldn't want to know I just want to know all the more."

"Fine," I said, sighing. "When I went back to the tower during the blight I saw him for the last time… There was a fight in the library. Not the big one downstairs, the smaller one on the upper level. It was so chaotic, there were people everywhere, walking corpses, abominations. Once everything was down I heard someone say my name." I winced and closed my eyes, trying not to cry. "I looked down and saw it was him. I didn't know. I shouted for Wynne to heal him, she went off about blood magic and how the templars would just execute him. I begged her but she dithered for so long... By the time she agreed it was too late. I killed him. I didn't even know it was him, but it doesn't matter… I killed him." Anders wordlessly handed me a clean rag from his pocket. I wiped my eyes. "He died with his head on my lap. The last thing he said was 'I always figured you'd be the death of me.'"

"What would you have done otherwise? If you knew it was him?"

"Talked him into not attacking," I said. "Sent him to go wait with the other survivors and not let them know he was a blood mage. Same thing we did with a girl who survived one of the fights." I sighed. "I didn't want to kill _any _of the mages, they attacked me first. I would have sooner sent them all out as survivors."

"They were going to call for the Rite of Annulment," Anders said. "He would have died either way."

"I know," I said. "But they didn't. He died because I killed him."

Anders pulled me closer to him, stroking my hair with his hand. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "You saved so many others that day." I didn't reply. "Did you love him?" he asked after a moment.

"No," I said. "It doesn't matter, though. He was my first real kiss, though, and a few years later we lost our virginity to each other so, well, there would always have been that. But… he was my _friend. _Even aside from all that, we were friends for more than _ten years_, and _I killed him_." Anders didn't say anything for a long time. Neither did I. I looked out at the mountains and tried not to cry with guilt. "There's more," I finally said after a long time. "A few weeks before my harrowing he told me that when Uldred got back from Ostagar the Libertarians in the tower would be having a meeting. Uldred told him I was welcome to join them, even though I couldn't officially join yet since I was only an apprentice."

"They were going to ask you to join the rebellion?" Anders said. "To become a blood mage?"

"Probably," I said. "Other apprentices had joined. I was a better mage than most of them, and my views on the Chantry have never been a secret."

"Would you have?"

"Yes," I said, not wanting to lie. I waited for Anders to react, figuring this was the part that would make him angry. Knowing what I knew _after _I wouldn't have, of course. But I'm sure Uldred wouldn't have sat me down and said "Well, we're going to teach you blood magic, rise up against the templars, and then I'm going to turn into a frothing at the mouth abomination and leave all of you twisting in the wind. Care to join?"

"They would have killed you either way," Anders said. "Even if someone else hadn't come along like you did, the templars would have annulled the Circle."

"I know," I said. "I didn't at the time but… I think I would have anyways. Death or a chance at freedom? If Uldred hadn't gone mad what would have happened? Other Circles would have heard, maybe they would have been inspired and done the same thing. If mages all over Thedas began rioting and fighting against their captors, well, maybe then something would change."

I could feel him tense next to me. "How many innocents would die, though?"

"What else could we do?" I countered. "The Chantry will never just _give_ us freedom. If we did it by vote they'd call up an exalted march. The templars can drain our mana, but they can't prevent us from casting spells based on blood. They might be able to dispel some of them, but not all. I can't think of any other way."

"It doesn't seem right," Anders said. "I hate what the Chantry does to us, but killing so many won't win anyone over to our cause. If anything, people would hate and fear mages even more."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But maybe they'd stop and wonder how bad it was if we were all willing to sacrifice ourselves so the people who came after us would be free?" I sighed. "It's all academic at this point. Neither of us are a part of the Circle, we have no say in what they do. Maybe we'll keep convincing people mages aren't so bad if we have to save the world every few years."

"Maybe," he agreed. "Speaking of, did you hear about the riot in Waking Sea?"

I twisted and looked up at him. "No? What happened?"

"Dermott heard about it when he was in the city, apparently the templars came to take away a child and the entire neighborhood fought back and drove them off."

"Maker's breath," I gasped. "Was anyone hurt?"

"They killed a few people, one of the templars died, too. I guess the family left town that night, no one knows where. But they still have their child. Second riot since First Day, apparently. I never even heard of the first."

"Neither did I. Waking Sea again?"

"No, Dragon's Peak," he said. "Bann Sighard refused to crack down on the city after it happened, so now the Chantry is blaming him for the second riot. I don't know what Bann Alfstanna did in Waking Sea, but she's such a Chantry supporter, I'm sure it wasn't pretty."

I thought about that for a moment. I could understand parents attacking templars to keep their own children. It had happened before, probably since the first days of the Circle of Magi. For an entire neighborhood to come to their aid, though… that was unheard of. "So is it wrong that hearing about riots is making me feel very happy?" I asked Anders.

He laughed in response. "If it is we're _both_ horrible people."

"So, you're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" he asked. "Everyone has a past. It does answer a question I had, though."

"Oh?" I said, wondering what he meant.

Anders chuckled a little. "I wondered if you were always so willing to throw yourself into danger for other people, or if the blight made you this way. Really, if I thought about it I would have figured out that you would jump at the chance to join the rebellion in the tower, especially if you were always how you are now. Who knows, maybe I would have, too." He sighed and looked out at the sky. "Probably not, though. Not for any major disagreement on philosophy, I just think I might have been too selfish. I love freedom… but it's always been freedom for _me_. I don't know if I would have been willing to die so _other people_ could potentially be free in the future. Not then, at least." He looked embarrassed after saying that.

"Not then?" I asked, looking over at him.

"No, not then," Anders said in confirmation. "Now… well, I stopped counting how many things I did that could kill me after the first month as a Grey Warden. These days I don't even think about the danger to me when I'm facing off against some ravenous horde of darkspawn for the greater good of mankind." Anders said that in a theatrically heroic voice and started laughing not long after. It began as a chuckle but built up until he was nearly doubled over. Eventually he regained control, gulping in air between the occasional escaping giggle. "You know, now that I think about it," he said, between fits, "I guess I am becoming more like you. Fancy that, the demon managed to get _one_ thing right."

* * *

_I found myself removing multiple complaints about the heat from this. I suppose my brain is so baked the weather in the Northeastern US is seeping over to Ferelden._

_Thanks for reading, and especially for the reviews. I just can't get enough of them. :D _


	48. What kind of secret filled order are we?

We packed the wagon in the morning, Roland and Arthur each helping Avernus down the stairs of the Peak. "I'm old, not dead," he protested as they took his arms, but gave in eventually. I suspect the years training to be knights had ingrained the idea of helping the elderly into both men. "I must say, your insistence in seeing to my comfort is amusing," he said once we were seated in the wagon. "You do realize I'm traveling with you so I can go off to _die_, correct?"

"Well, wouldn't it be a shame to bust your hip before that?" Roland asked, grinning. "I mean, leaving for the Calling on crutches? _Embarrassing_."

"Charming," Avrenus muttered. "Commander, where _do_ you find them?"

I grinned up at him. "Arthur and Roland were both handpicked by the king."

He chuckled at that. "I don't suppose I can find that surprising."

I ended up sitting between Moira and Anders in the wagon, Roland had volunteered to drive until we broke for lunch. He was sitting on the bench with Ronan and Rose, Arthur and Dermott behind them. The five were all singing an old folk song.

The tiny wagon was fairly crowded in comparison to our trip there. In addition to the extra passanger we had quite a bit more to bring back with us. All our gear, plus everything from Avernus' laboratory, and the two large crates of items I'd stashed at the Peak during the blight crowded the wagon, along with several paintings and items of value I'd removed so they wouldn't be damaged during the renovations.

"You don't remember me, do you," Moira whispered to me as we passed through the new roads cut into the mountain.

I glanced over at her. She had a stripe of facepaint extending across both eyes, in the style of the Chasind tribes, and short pale brown hair pulled back into several braids. I tried to place meeting her before she joined the Wardens and couldn't. The only place I'd ever met any of the Chasind people was in Lothering, I asked her if that was the place and she smiled, shaking her head no. "Further north," she said. "I wasn't born among the Wilder folk, I fought in the Battle of Denerim and hid with them after. They took me in since I had healing skills." She smiled and shrugged. "I suppose I went a bit native while I was there."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I met so many people during the blight. Did we meet during the battle?"

"No," she said. "But you told me to be there for it." I stared at her blankly and she laughed a little bit. "I'm sorry, I'm being mean making you guess. We met at the tower, actually. I don't think we ever knew each other before you became a Warden, but I knew your face. You were Irving's star pupil, and a few years older than me. _Everyone_ knew who you were, especially after you left." She tucked a braid behind her ear. "You… you just looked so heartbroken for a moment when Jowan asked about Brennan last night. I don't know, I wanted to remind you not everyone died. I was there when he did. He knew it could happen, we all knew most of us would be unlikely to survive. I remember you arguing with that old bitch Wynne, and screaming when she agreed too late. Sometimes I wonder if you spared me just to spite her for that. But, even if you did, I wanted to thank you for it."

I gasped, looking at her again. I pictured her several years younger, without the facepaint and wild hair. She had been lying only feet from where I was sitting with Brennan. When I stood up Zevran pointed her out, injured but very much alive. "_Please, please don't kill me,_" she had begged. I told her to go wait with the survivors, say nothing about being one of the blood mages, and help us when the time came. "You remember now?" she said, smiling. "I told you I would pledge my life to your cause, even though you only asked for my help against the archdemon. After the battle I waited to hear word on the Wardens recruiting again. It took some time for news to reach me so deep in the south, but it did eventually."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I didn't know if you'd be as excited about having my help now that the blight is over. I know you don't have the rules that the Chantry does for mages, but blood magic makes people very nervous, even though I haven't used it in years."

I chuckled at that a bit. "You do realize—"

"Well, I do _now_," she said, smiling. "I didn't at the time. I figured, if I survived to actually become a Warden I'd let you know."

"Does _everyone_ know about the Joining in advance?" I said, shaking my head. "I had no idea until the man who went before me died."

"The Chasind did. They warned me before I left, actually." I shook my head hearing that. Even the _Chasind_, the people who lived in the wilds and rarely spoke to anyone outside their isolated tribes, knew? What kind of secret-filled order was this? Moira looked at me seriously. "When I told you I'd devote my life to your cause I meant it. It wasn't just something I said to survive."

"That wasn't necessary," I said, feeling a twinge of guilt. While she was proving to be incredibly useful between her healing and combat skills and the scouting abilities she picked up from the Chasind, I didn't want her to think I only spared her because I expected her to hand the rest of her life over to me. "Not that I don't appreciate it or anything. I'm glad you're here, you're a good Warden. I didn't need any kind of lifelong vow to spare you, though." I sighed. "I would have spared everyone if I could. I didn't attack anyone unless they attacked me first."

"I know," she said. "But… you understood. I could tell you did." She looked away, staring out into the distance at the passing coastline. "I don't regret what I did. I believed in it then, and I believe in it now. I regret that Uldred cared more about his own power and pride than he did about our cause, and that we failed because of him, but none of us ever expected that. When I told you why I could see you understood."

"I'm of the same opinion," I said. "I wouldn't have interfered at all if I didn't need the Circle to provide help against the blight and Uldred hadn't become an abomination."

She nodded, looking satisfied. "Uldred was annoyed after Ostagar. He thought you had died with the other Wardens and said it was a waste of talent. I don't think he cared much for you _personally_, though, to be honest," she admitted.

"Well, I did have a tendency to get in trouble on a fairly regular basis," I said, grinning. I couldn't be offended if he disliked me, after all. I _had_ killed him.

Moira chuckled at that. "At the very least, if the stories were any indication. He liked people who kept quiet, stayed below the templar radar. But, he knew you were one of the best combat mages in the tower and you had no love for the Chantry rule. Brennan pushed him to invite you, he had finally agreed just before leaving for Ostagar." She smiled at me. "You know, _he_ thought very highly of you. Brennan said you were brilliant, and the best mage in the tower. Not the best apprentice, just the best. He said Uldred would be a fool if he didn't see that."

"I would have joined," I said. "Brennan approached me about it a couple days before I ended up getting conscripted."

"I figured as much," Moira said. "That's why I wanted to join the Wardens. I thought since you understood why we rebelled, you spared me so readily, _and_ stood up to Wynne like that, well, I could do much worse for a commanding officer. When I heard the gossip about your problems with the Chantry since then I knew it was the right choice."

We talked for a while longer and I realized that, by the time we stopped for lunch, I was feeling a little better about the entire situation. I told Anders about my conversation with her as we cooked. I had been assisting everyone with meals, hoping to pick up enough to prepare something on my own that wouldn't make everyone gag. "So you didn't recognize her at all?" he asked finally.

"Not at all," I admitted. "You know how many people I met during the blight, though? Hundreds, maybe thousands. She certainly didn't dress like a Chasind back then, either."

"This does seem like our new pattern," Anders said. "Almost all of the younger recruits have been people who either survived the attack on Amaranthine, or were somehow touched by the blight itself." I wasn't surprised by that. I imagine we would be seeing people join for years to come who survived the blight, even as children. It worked in our favor, at least. Our surge in popularity coincided perfectly with a desperate need to build our numbers.

Setting out once again, I rode on the driver's bench with Anders. We were nearly to the Hafter River, I could see it shining in the distance, when I called for us to stop. Anders was already pulling back on the reigns before I could even speak. I jumped down from the wagon as soon as it had rolled to a halt, seeing everyone around me doing the same thing.

Seconds after my feet were on the ground dirt began spraying through the air as the darkspawn erupted around us. They came at us in surprising numbers, but we eventually dispatched them all. I looked around at everyone in time to see Ronan begin to slump over. "Woah, I got you," Jowan said as he grabbed him by the arms, gently setting him on the ground and healing a head injury.

Anders was working on Rose, who had taken a couple arrows to her leg, and Moira was healing an angry looking stab wound in her own side. I saw Anders finish up with Rose and begin checking everyone else over, so I moved on to checking the darkspawn. "Maggie," Jowan called. I walked over and looked at the body he had flipped. "This one's painted like an Orlesian prostitute. I'm thinking that isn't… normal."

"Fantastic!" I said, looking down at the body. "About time those chatty bastards started coming out of hiding." I searched the body and had Roland note on our map where the attack was. I looked up at him. "He say anything?"

Jowan shrugged slightly, a small smile playing across his lips. "I only caught one thing from him. '_Nooooooo_.' Apparently they _don't_ like being set on fire. Who knew?" Several of us laughed at that. I smiled to myself as we dragged the bodies off to the edge of the road. Jowan had argued with me for ages that he would never be able to handle the life of a Grey Warden, but I knew once he got used to it he would be as fine as any of us were. Of course, we were all probably half-mad and now he was no better, but it beat running away or fainting in battle. I noticed face paint on a few of the genlocks, who were otherwise typical looking. Nothing as elaborate as the disciples wore, just a few smears of color. I wondered at the significance but couldn't think of any way we could find out.

While most of us focused on dragging the darkspawn into a pile so we could burn the corpses I saw Anders standing over Avernus, looking lost. I walked over to them and saw the old mage was actually rather severely injured. "What's going on?" I asked them.

"He won't let me heal him," Anders said, sounding confused.

Avernus, lying on the ground, rolled his eyes. "You don't think that would be counterproductive?" He shifted slightly and groaned. The mage had taken several arrows to the chest. It was a serious wound, but nothing fatal with attention from a healer. "I didn't join you for a change in _scenery_, after all."

"Oh…" Anders said, suddenly realizing.

"Indeed," he replied. "Ah… better under the sun, on a nice day. It's really just the how that matters, not the _where_, after all." He was growing paler and his speech had taken on a definite slur. Anders shifted nervously, sitting by while someone calmly bled to death was contrary to everything he knew after all. I sat down on the ground next to Avernus, taking his hand. Anders sat on his opposite side, casting a quick spell.

"Just for the pain," he said.

"Thank you," Avernus said to Anders, his voice soft. With his free hand he patted mine. "The Wardens are in good hands…" he mumbled before his eyes drifted closed. I thanked him and the three of us sat for a moment longer before Anders put a hand to his neck and nodded.

I stood up and looked over, Aidan and Jowan had started burning the pile of darkspawn already. Anders lifted Avernus' body and carried it a safe distance from the wagon. Rose came over to where we stood. "He didn't make it?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"He didn't want to," I said. "He was going to go into the Deep Roads as soon as we got home, Anders could have healed him but Avernus didn't want him to."

"Makes sense," she said. "Better up here than down there."

Anders and I began to cast fire spells, the other mages soon joined us. We were able to gather his ashes before long so they could be interred at the Keep. The mood for the rest of the trip was slightly subdued, but not by much. They had only known the mage for a couple days, after all, and his death was planned. It wasn't the same feeling we would have if a friend died, but I suspect many of us had our minds on our own futures. Personally, I hoped I would be lucky enough to fall in battle before heading underground as well.

Once we were home I told Nathaniel what had happened. Word spread throughout the building quickly and by the time the wagon was unpacked and I returned outside in fresh robes a small crowd had gathered by the stone box we used in lieu of a full graveyard. Knowing he wouldn't appreciate a religious verse I waited for Nathaniel and Anders to wrestle the top off the monument. "We commit to rest the ashes of our brother Avernus," I said to the assembled Wardens, the start of a very brief speech Anders had helped me with. "Never before has one served our cause for so long, devoted to the very end. He fought with honor, greatly advancing research that will aid the Grey Wardens for centuries to come, and died honorably in battle with the darkspawn." With that I added the ashes to the monument and saluted briefly as soon as the lid was replaced. That was the end of Avernus' extremely long, unusual life.

That evening I distributed his potion to the Wardens who hadn't accompanied us to the peak and sent the instructions off to Weisshaupt and the other commanders, explaining as much as I knew about it and assuring him that I'd had no ill effects in the years since I first sampled it. At the very least his work would live on, and the deaths he caused furthering it wouldn't be in vain.

* * *

For months Nathaniel and I had been trying to determine which Wardens seemed to have a capacity for leadership, and if it would be better applied at a garrison or in the field. I had asked him if he would prefer taking charge of one of the better positions- Denerim perhaps, or the Peak once it was completed, but Nathaniel insisted he wanted to stay at the Keep. He was second only to me in Ferelden, which put him third behind the First Warden as far as our casual power structure was concerned, but I didn't want him to feel like I was promoting others above him. While whoever was in charge of the various other outposts would answer to both of us, for an outsider it might look as though they were just below me.

Once we had our list compiled I began cornering people asking if they had a preference. Most, as I expected, winced at the very idea of being stuck in charge of a garrison. Although Mal had proven himself to be very popular among the other Wardens, something he seemed rather surprised by, and had all but taken charge of training the dogs on his own, he chuckled when I suggested the idea. "Maggie, I am flattered," he said. "But… I'm a scout. I would be useless running a garrison. My place is in the woods. And while I can read your language, certainly, my writing is… clearly that of someone who did not grow up speaking the same tongue." Rose had _literally_ winced at the idea, particularly when she realized it would involve having to be the public face of the order in any one location. Her reaction was not uncommon. Apparently most aspects of my job were seen as absolutely dreadful by the majority of the order. Not that I could blame them, I'd love nothing more than dropping the Commander job on someone else and going back to just being a Warden. Although, to think of it, I'd only been _just_ a Warden for half a day before I was a full half of the surviving order

In the end it was Caitlin who actually seemed excited about the idea. "So… I would get to tell people about the Wardens if they come in for information about joining?" she asked me when I approached her. "Like, I could talk about our history and what we do? And decide if they seem like they would be good recruits?"

"And you would be in charge of any investigations of darkspawn activity in the vicinity," I said. She nodded, grinning.

"And I could live in _Denerim_? The capital?"

"Our compound adjoins the palace," I said. She beamed. That settled that. I suspected she would like the idea, Caitlin loved talking about the Wardens almost as much as I did. She, along with half a dozen others who wanted to move to the capital, would travel up with us when we left for Alistair's wedding.

I had Varel take care of the staffing and the slight changes in the compound I wanted done before it was filled. The palace had renovated it extensively, but the sleeping arrangements were less than ideal. Someone had decided on filling each room with bunkbeds, making it sleep more than fifty at a time. We didn't have nearly enough people to fill that many beds, and I didn't want to force people to share rooms unless we had no other options. As Nathaniel often said, we asked far more of them than anyone would expect from a common guard, so we should make sure they were treated better than a common guard. The bunks had to go, replaced with a normal bed for each room. With the master suite that was thirteen separate sleeping quarters.

It ended up that I had to leave Aidan in charge when we left, with Mal and Ronan instructed to help him as needed. Rose and Roland asked for permission to travel with us to Denerim. I asked if she was introducing him to her family and she only made a face. "Well, technically, but not in _that_ way. I'm just going for a visit and he wants to come with me. His family is there, too." I smiled and kept my opinion to myself. Aidan had hoped to join us, but realized Shianni would be attending the royal wedding so going to visit her would be pointless. We would be there for only a few days, after all.

"Maker's breath," Anders grumbled, flopping onto his back on the bed in our room at the Denerim compound. "Next time we decide to travel with so many people just… I don't know… kick me in the head." I sat next to him, nodding numbly in agreement. Between the two of us, the seven relocating Wardens, Rose and Roland, Sigrun, Nathaniel, Oghren _and_ his wife it was chaotic from the moment we left. I suppose I should be grateful that Jowan and Nora had taken Oghren's daughter in while we were away. I think if we had to deal with a three year old in addition to everything else I would have ripped my own hair out.

"At least the trip home won't be as bad," I said, shoving my bag out of the way. We had taken a smaller room than the one we stayed in last time we were in Denerim. Since Caitlin would be the Senior Warden of Denerim I figured she should just settle into the master suite right away. I was relieved to see our clothing for after the ceremony had already been delivered. There would be music and dancing and a banquet after, wearing heavy plate throughout the evening seemed an unpleasant prospect at best.

"True," he agreed. "Although we still get to hear Felsi and Oghren calling each other nug droppings and bronto behinds and whatever else they come up with."

I giggled at that. "Be glad they didn't bring the kid," I reminded him. "Should we find Alistair? Let him know we're here?"

Anders smiled. "Believe me, I'm _very_ glad. I mean, his daughter's great and all, but I never know what to say to children." He gave a small shrug. "I'm always worried I'll say something horribly inappropriate and an angry mother will smack me across the face. Although with Oghren as a father I don't know if I _could_ be more inappropriate than he is, even if I tried. Oh, and Alistair is probably busy," Anders said. "I mean, he's getting married tomorrow."

I nodded and wrote out a note to him so he would know we arrived. One of the servants Varel hired for the compound delivered it for me. "Have you ever been to a wedding?" I asked Anders, wondering what I should expect.

"A few," he said. "My mother and stepfather's, of course, but other relatives when I was younger, too. I crashed one once while I was on a vacation from the tower. It was outside. I told them I was a cousin visiting from Highever so I could snag a free meal. You?"

"No, never," I said. "I was invited to a bunch of them just after the blight, all over the country. Eamon told me to just ignore the invitations. It wasn't people I knew, he thought they were hoping I would send an extravagant gift or something like that."

"Really?" Anders laughed. "Did they think you were wealthy? Does being a fugitive pay very well?"

"It did towards the end," I admitted. "But no one really knew that. I know we're supposed to ride from the palace to the Chantry, our group will be ahead of Alistair and Elissa's carriage. Someone from the palace wrote to me and said we needed an even number of Wardens, so Caitlin has to come with us. I thought it would be a good way to introduce her to them, anyways. Not sure what we do _during_ the ceremony, but after we line up outside the doors and hold our weapons up in an arch they walk through."

"So I should wear a sword tomorrow?" Anders asked.

"Nope," I laughed. "Elissa _specifically_ requested you and I use our staves. She wants to send a message, apparently."

Anders laughed at that. "Oh, the Chantry will _love_ that."

"Hey, she'll be queen in two days; I don't think they're in a position to argue." I giggled. "Besides, I've seen the new Grand Cleric, our future queen is much prettier. I don't think she'll be able to sway Alistair's opinion."

Anders looked at me and smiled. "You are _such_ a troublemaker," he chuckled. "I think you miss having the Chantry hiding around every corner looking for us!"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Come on, there's a big difference between not hiding what I am and actively provoking the Chantry. I'm pretty sure they already know I'm a mage, regardless of what I'm carrying."

Anders gasped, looking at me with shock. "You're a _mage_? By the Maker…" He started laughing and lunged forward, tickling my sides until I was doubled over, fighting for air against my giggles. When Anders lost his interest in tickling me he started to unlace my robes, kissing my neck all the while. They were halfway to my waist when a knock at the door interrupted us.

I groaned in annoyance. The door opened before I could tell whoever it was to give us a few seconds, someone said "oh!" and closed it quickly. "Just a _second_," I said, now sounding as annoyed as I felt. Honestly, who would just burst into someone's room?

"Who was it?" Anders said, redoing the few top buttons of his robes I'd gotten to while I laced myself up again.

"Didn't see," I said. "Hope they enjoyed a peek at my underthings."

"I would have enjoyed getting more than just that," Anders grumbled, walking over to open the door. I had my back to it, buckling up my belt and reattaching the short shoulder cape of my robes. I could hear him gasp in surprise and turned to see who was at the door.

"Oh!" I said, shocked. "Um, Your Majesty, this is… unexpected."

Elissa Cousland laughed. "If you don't call Alistair by his title you certainly shouldn't call me by one, either. And I won't be queen for a few more days, as it is." She blushed slightly. "Sorry for the interruption. I thought this was your office, not your, well..." She blushed even more deeply then. I wouldn't think bursting into someone's office without waiting for them to open the door would be appropriate either, but I suppose she was used to being able to go wherever she wanted and decided not to worry about it. "I didn't realize anyone was in here with the Commander."

Anders gave her a strange look. "Where else would I be?" he said, sounding defensive.

She looked confused. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. My apologies." I waved it off, not offended, but noticed Anders muttered something about the apology being accepted through clenched teeth. I gave him a quick glance and he seemed to catch my thoughts, realizing that glowering at the future queen might not be a good plan. Anders brightened instantly, offering her a charming smile.

"What can we do for you?" he asked her cheerfully.

She smiled at us and giggled slightly. "Well… I'm here to steal Maggie away, and Sigrun as well." Anders and I exchanged a confused glance. "Alistair wanted you to meet him in his study," she went on, addressing Anders. "Bring Oghren and Nathaniel with you, too. Oh, and there was another Warden, right? We needed an even number tomorrow."

"Caitlin," I said. "She's actually the new Senior Warden of Denerim, so she'll be staying here."

"Well, she needs to come, too," Elissa said, smiling. "This is good, it'll give me a chance to meet her. I'm sure we'll be working together in the future with her being so close."

"Is something the matter?" I asked, not understanding what was going on.

"Not at all," she said. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"Well… why do you need us?" I said after a second, not able to think of a more speaking-to-nobles appropriate way to ask. It wasn't as though Denerim had been overwhelmed with Darkspawn, I would sense them.

She looked at us and shook her head. "Have either of you been in a wedding before?"

I shook my head. "I was in my mother's," Anders said. "I gave her away when she married my stepfather. Apparently I looked quite dapper in my shortpants and doublet." I giggled, trying to picture it. "And I didn't get dirt on myself until well into the second course of the meal when I ran off to play with a stray dog that was nosing around for scraps." I laughed even harder at that and, seeing the strange look Elissa was giving him, Anders clarified. "I was eight, or maybe nine, at the time."

Elissa nodded. "Well, it's tradition," she said. "Before the wedding the bride and all the women get together, and the groom with all the men who will be in the wedding." Confused, I nodded and gathered everyone up once we'd been reassured that what we had on was fine. The others, at least, seemed surprised only to be invited, not by the tradition itself, so Anders and I only shrugged and followed them through the compound towards the palace proper.

* * *

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews! Long break (well, for me). Real life needs to stop getting in the way of my writing. ;)_


	49. Are we cooking something?

Elissa led us through the corridors of the palace, pausing briefly before Alistair's study where she all but shoved the men in. Anders met my eyes with a nervous glance before the door opened. Neither of us had the slightest idea what was going on so I'm sure my expression wasn't very different. He offered me a shrug and squeezed my hand before heading in with Oghren and Nathaniel. I could see Alistair, Teagan, and Fergus Cousland already inside, and they looked as though they'd been drinking for some time. Sigrun, Caitlin and I followed Elissa to her suite of rooms further down the hall.

I realized on our walk that Elissa wasn't giggling because she was embarrassed for walking in on us. She was giggling because she had been drinking. Drinking for quite some time, I suspected. I wondered if their respective gatherings were proving dull and someone thought dragging us along would provide some entertainment.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" I whispered to Sigrun.

She shrugged. "I'm as lost as you. Casteless couldn't get married when I left Orzammar. I've never been to a wedding."

"Me neither," I said. "Anders had, but not since he was a little boy." I figured sneaking in for a free meal didn't count.

She giggled at that. "I can just imagine him as a child. Something tells me he was one of those little boys who chased all the girls around trying to kiss them." That mental image made me giggle, it did seem like something he might have done. A couple boys in the tower had been like that when we were young, I didn't even realize that was something children did normally.

We glanced at Caitlin. She shook her head with a grin. "Am I the ambassador to normal society? When my cousin got married we all got completely trashed and went to a brothel. Most of us didn't partake of the services beyond looking and dancing with the men there, it was just to be wild. I doubt a queen would take us all to gawk at prostitutes, though."

"What are you three whispering about?" Elissa said, turning on us. Taking a closer look I could see she'd _definitely _been drinking. Hiding it well, sure, but not completely and not as much now that we were back in the palace. "You look like I'm dragging you to the executioner! We're just having some drinks and gossiping! Haven't you ever been to a hen night?"

I stared at her blankly. "Like… chickens?" I suddenly had a bizarre vision of the future queen of Ferelden plucking feathers from poultry. "Are we cooking something?" That almost made sense. Most wives would be expected to cook, maybe it was some kind of tradition to share recipes.

"What?" she stared at me like I was mad. "No… that's just what they _call_ it. Since it's all women, just the hens, no…" she giggled again, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Just the hens… no cocks." Elissa roared with laughter then, muffled by the hands she clamped over her mouth. Sigrun snickered, trying to hold her laughter in. I suspect it was more from seeing someone react so strongly to a dirty double entendre than to the word itself. "It'll be _fun,_" she insisted, urging us down the hall. "Right now it's just my horrid cousin Habren Bryland, Alfstanna, and _Isolde_. I needed to get you or Alfstanna and I were going to go mad and kill them both." She rolled her eyes. "Isolde's completely drunk and keeps talking about Teagan's backside. It's horrifying." That actually sounded, well, kind of entertaining to me. She pulled open a large door and Alfstanna looked up at us with obvious relief. I didn't think she liked me, but I guess I rated more congenial than the present company.

"…Eamon looked like that… but he was young then. He's so _olllld_ now," Isolde was muttering, ignored by everyone in the room. She glanced over and saw us, making a face. "Really, my Lady? Commoners?"

Elissa sighed. "Isolde, I've told you, _please_ call me Elissa."

"You know," Alfstanna said, a grin forming as she handed each of us a glass filled with something bubbly, "I believe the Commander technically outranks all of us save Elissa. After all, Eamon is no longer an Arl." Isolde made a face, paling slightly, and I hid my giggle. She was actually the only person in the room with a title besides me, and she was a Bann, which made her statement completely true.

"This is Sigrun, one of the Senior Wardens of Ferelden," I told them. "And this is Caitlin, I've just appointed her Senior Warden to manage the compound here in Denerim." We sat down and sipped our drinks quietly, listening to the conversation. I wasn't exactly sure what was polite here, Sigrun was just as out of place as me, and Caitlin seemed nervous to be around so many high ranked nobles. The apparently-horrid Habren was even quieter than we were, though. All she managed to contribute was the occasional snore.

"Maggie's never been to a hen night," Elissa announced. "She thought it involved cooking chickens." Everyone laughed and I quickly tossed back my drink, feeling stupid. How was I supposed to know?

"I've never even been to a _wedding_," I said in my own defense.

"Neither have I," Sigrun added. Elissa and Alfstanna stared at us in surprise. Sigrun shrugged and tapped the brand on her cheek. "In Orzammar this means I don't exist, and neither do any of my family and our ancestors. People who don't exist can't get married."

"I think Behlan changed that," I said.

"He did," Sigrun agreed. "He was a good choice."

"I thought he would be," I shrugged. "Mages don't really get married."

"Some do," Alfstanna said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "One of the Senior Enchanters was, Sweeney. He was really old, his wife had been a normal person. His kids wanted to take him home with them to live out his last days there. The templars wouldn't let him." I shrugged. "So, he saw them once a year when they were allowed to visit on Andraste Day. Not much appeal to the idea when they can just separate you anyways. And two mages together is… discouraged." I knew the fear was that two mages would just lead to baby mages. Part of me wondered if the Chantry would start pressuring all mages to join the Wardens if they found out about how rare it was for us to have children. I made a face. "This is depressing. We should talk happy things." I looked at Elissa and groped for a normal question before someone's wedding. "You have a fancy dress?"

"I do!" she all but shrieked, running across the room and reaching into a closet. I suppose I'd hit on a good topic. She pulled an elaborate white dress with blue embroidery. "I had my mother's dress resized and updated a little bit." Elissa looked at it and made a sad face, no doubt thinking of her parents. Well, so much for happy topics.

"Very pretty," Sigrun said. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know you were wearing her dress. It's like… you're including her in the ceremony that way." As usual Sigrun came up with the perfect comforting thing to say off the top of her head.

Caitlin nodded in agreement. "My sister, mother, and grandmother all wore the same dress for their weddings. You could be starting a new family tradition. Maybe your daughter will wear it someday."

Elissa smiled at that idea. "Wouldn't that be nice? I know Alistair wants a boy, but I'd like a girl. Well, all things considered, I'd be happy with any baby, as long as it's healthy." I wondered if she knew about the problems they could face, I guess Alistair had given her some hint.

"Do you expect… problems?" Alfstanna asked, looking concerned.

"Maybe," Elissa said. "Alistair was ill as a boy, by the time they realized it was serious enough to warrant calling a healer they told him he may have trouble having kids since the fever ran so long. No one cared since he was set to be a templar, but…" she shrugged. "You know how the Chantry is about mages. They don't even trust healers. It's awful." I had no idea if a fever could do something like that, and I suspected Alistair, or Alistair and Eamon more likely, came up with something reasonable sounding to explain it without revealing Warden secrets.

"I'm starting to wonder if their caution is really necessary," Alfstanna admitted. "Even my brother says it's excessive."

"How is he?" I asked her, wanting to change the topic before they turned on me for my opinion. I was drunk, but not so drunk to forget talking about mage rights issues with a room full of nobles may be unwise given the extremity of my views. Her brother had captured Jowan during the blight. Loghain's men had then captured him in turn so they could send Jowan to Redcliffe, and left the templar in the tender care of Arl Howe. I had rescued him from the dungeons, in the grip of severe lyrium withdrawl.

"Fully recovered," she said with a grateful sigh. "Irminric just started an assignment in the tower, I saw him before he left, and he sends his regards, actually."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said. Maybe a templar who was grateful to a mage for saving their life would share that goodwill with other mages. I was tempted to ask about the riots in her Banneron, but figured if she wanted to talk about it she would bring it up herself. She began chatting with Elissa about their clothing for the wedding.

Elissa looked at Sigrun and smiled, trying to draw us into the conversation while Isolde babbled away about how Eamon used to look like Teagan when she met him. I couldn't picture it, but I did notice the way Alfstanna would tense and make a face every time the Orlesian woman shrieked out her brother in law's name. "I remember you, from the ball. Is it true about you and Nathaniel?"

"Yes, it's all true," she said, face straight as she sipped her drink. "Nathaniel and I are secretly the rightful monarchs of Antiva."

"Then you must appreciate the drink," Elissa said, grinning and playing along. "That's where it was imported from."

Sigrun smiled at that, raising her glass. "Ah, it reminds me of home. How I long for the… um…" She paused, fumbling for something distinctly Antivan to complete the sentence. All I could think of was assassins, fish chowder, and… Ah, the perfect answer. Or so my third or fourth drink insisted.

"Milk sandwiches?" I offered, snorting back a giggle. I had no idea what we were drinking, but only a few glasses in I already felt like I was midway through a drinking contest with Oghren.

Sigrun joined me in laughter. Everyone but Isolde looked utterly lost. She, for the most part, looked surprised. "That is a… true thing? I thought it was just a term for…" she rattled off something in Orlesian and blushed furiously, slapping a hand over her mouth after. "Oh, please forget I said that," she said quickly.

"What?" I said. "I barely know more than five words in Orlesian, and most relate to darkspawn." Caitlin leaned over and whispered in my ear. I giggled. "Ohhh, _that's_ what it is? I thought it would be far worse. That's _nothing_." I told Sigrun and she giggled, spilling her drink.

"_That's_ nothing?" Elissa said, looking at me with shock. "Oh my…"

"What?" I asked.

Alfstanna giggled. "You must have a very interesting, um, private life, Maggie."

I grinned at that. "I don't see the big deal. I mean, maybe not every day, but once in a while, sure, why not. Only live once." I blinked suddenly, looking at my glass and setting it down. Was I actually discussing this with a Bann, the drunken wife of the Chancellor, and the future queen? "Um, I may need to slow down," I said, pushing the glass away.

"Oh no," Alfstanna said, refilling it and shoving it towards me. "This is the most fun we've had all night."

Sigrun laughed. "If it makes you feel better, I think it's just the name that makes it sound so dirty."

I considered that. "No… it's definitely pretty dirty, but, you know, in a fun way. Not, like, _really_ dirty, though. I can think of much worse." Heck, I'd done worse. I probably would be doing worse right now if Anders and I hadn't been interrupted.

"Never notice the height difference then," she said before blushing and gulping down her drink. "Don't tell him I said that."

"So is that what you were up to before I barged in like an oaf?" Elissa giggled.

"I'm not _nearly_ drunk enough to answer that," I said.

Isolde stared at me. "This early in the day?" I just shrugged and she turned to Elissa. "And you _walked in_?"

"I didn't see anything," Elissa replied primly. "Clothing was still on. Just… in disarray." She refilled her glass and chuckled. "Don't feel bad, we gave a maid even more of an eyeful last week. I've never been so embarrassed!"

I giggled. "So you and Alistair… already?"

She grinned. "It took some convincing. I pointed out that no one would object to us trying to hurry up with providing an heir. We would have just moved the wedding up if…" she shrugged.

"Here here!" Alfstanna said, raising her glass. "And worst case, just pad your belly for nine months and adopt an orphan. With the way most of the men in the nobility act odds are it would have at least some blood that can be traced to Calenhad anyways." I was impressed, that was actually a really great idea. She went on, ranting for some time about how no one could blame her for waiting to marry given the way men run after the maids whenever their wives' backs were turned. "And have you _seen_ how many blonde haired men there are with that famous Theirin nose in this country? It seems like half the bastards in Ferelden fit the description."

"I wouldn't say _that_ many," Elissa said.

Sigrun began giggling. I glanced over at her. "Isn't Anders a bastard?" she asked.

"I wouldn't recommend calling him that to his face," I said. "But yes."

"Oh wow," Caitlin said. "I'd never noticed it, but there certainly is a resemblance now that I've seen the king in person…"

"That's your, um… friend?" Alfstanna said, clearly not sure of the proper term. "The very tall mage with the long hair?" I nodded and she giggled. "Oh yes, I can see it." She smiled. "He's very handsome."

"That he is," I agreed. "And he's fully aware of it, too."

"Definitely," Sigrun agreed. "She doesn't help things, though, with the way Maggie stares at him all the time."

"I do not!" I protested, blushing.

"Sure you do," Sigrun said. "_Especially_ when he's wearing armor."

Caitlin laughed at that. "I remember when you made him wear armor into the deep roads. Said it was to keep him safe but you were drooling over his legs so much none of us believed it. And then you two snuck off that night after your watch…"

"Hey," I said. "We had to deal with… mage business." Well, we did. Eventually. "And that was _his_ idea, thank you."

"Mage business?" Sirgun laughed. "Is that like when Nate and I caught you in the dining room on his lap and you said you were discussing magic?" She gulped down her drink. "No idea how he could discuss anything with his mouth plastered on your neck like that. I heard you muttering _something_, but I don't think I've ever seen you use a spell that required those particular gestures."

"I hate you both," I muttered, sinking into my chair. Everyone burst out laughing at that, with the exception of Isolde who looked scandalized.

"I'm just glad he's subtle enough that you never see how much he stares at you," Sigrun went on.

"I was wondering," Alfstanna said, once the room calmed down. "He looks quite a bit like His Majesty, and you obviously must think he's attractive…" she giggled. "During the blight did you and Alistair ever…?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Nope," I said. "Never even considered it. I was terrified of him when we met, all he had to say was 'trained as a Templar' and I slept with one eye open for weeks." I shrugged.

"Not even _once_?" Alfstanna said, clearly surprised.

"Not even once," I said. "Although I did get a good look at his bare backside on one occasion. Not bad, other than the fact that he was covered in blood and I was pulling an arrow from him at the time while he yelled at me for not staying in cover."

"Definitely better than 'not bad,'" Elissa said, grinning.

"I was with someone else for most of the blight anyways," I added, hoping that would end the 'did you ever sleep with Alistair' line of questioning.

"Really?" Elissa said. "I didn't know that. Who?"

"Alistair never told you?" I asked, surprised. She shook her head. "Zevran," I said with a shrug. I thought it had been common knowledge, we went to all the post-blight celebrations arm in arm after all. "Well, I guess its Ser Arainai now."

"An _elf_!" Isolde said, shocked. Caitlin stiffened next to me, giving the drunk woman a dirty look.

"Why not?" I said. I grinned at her. "You really think your son looks at the girls in the tower and sees human or elf? They're all just girls to him. The best thing I can say about the Circle is that we were all treated equally." She looked appalled and I made my smile even broader.

"As it should be," Elissa said with a nod. I noticed everyone but Isolde and the unconscious Habren raised their glasses to that. "Alistair has made great strides already. He has some fine ideas for the future, and I know my brother and Teagan plan to support him in the Landsmeet. I'm sure he'll tell you soon," she said.

"The Crown's investigator?" Alfstanna asked. I nodded. "Ohhh… he seems… dangerous."

"I suppose," I said, not wanting to reveal just how dangerous Zevran could be.

"Dangerous can be fun," she mused.

"I never met him," Sigrun said. "Nathaniel said he reminded him of Anders. If Anders was an elf."

"He has long blonde hair and an earring. Hazel eyes. Nice dresser. Tattoos."

Sigrun snorted with laughter. "So… he is an elven version of Anders is what you're saying, but with tattoos? Assuming 'nice dresser' is mage-speak for 'obnoxious dresser.'"

"Too cocky and flamboyant for my tastes," Alfstanna said. "I can see the appeal, though. You've got good taste."

"I like flamboyant," I said, grinning as I took another drink. I wondered what the men were doing. "For that matter, I like cocky. Guys like that are great fun. Besides," I added, "with that stupid hero title reputation thing I have I need someone a bit arrogant to tolerate it."

"Not me," Elissa said. "I like sweet."

I giggled at that. "Then Alistair is perfect for you. He does sweet very well. I think half the women in Ferelden developed a crush on him during the blight." I remembered how Alistair would rush in to save everyone and women would just _stare_ at him. "I wonder if he picked that up from Teagan. He's the same way."

"Ah, Teagaaaannn," Isolde mumbled. "Eamon has tried to find him a wife, but he always says no. I think he has a secret woman hidden away." She made a face at the idea and Alfstanna shifted in her seat.

I smiled at that, happy he had found someone once I managed to put everything together. No wonder the Bann looked like she wanted to throttle Isolde whenever Teagan was brought up.

"I think I know whooo," Caitlin giggled, whispering it to me. I passed it on to Sigrun and she nodded in agreement.

Elissa and Alfstanna were talking about something while the three of us put this together. I heard her use the phrase "royal scepter" and choked on my drink.

"What?" she said.

"Did you call it his _royal scepter?"_

She giggled. "…maybe?" At this point we were all quite drunk and burst into laughter.

I raised an eyebrow. "His idea, right?"

"How'd you know?" she asked. I relayed the conversation Alistair and I had about licking lampposts. Once she finished laughing Elissa gave a drunken shake of her head. "I suppose royal scepter is better than him calling it the royal lamppost."

"That sounds… painful," Sigrun said. Even Isolde laughed then.

"Oh, come on, you don't ever refer to it as his… mage's staff?"

"No!" I said quickly. The idea had never even occurred to me, and sounded ridiculous once presented. "I think he would laugh me out of bed if I tried." I was quite sure of that, in fact.

"I knew someone who referred to it as his hammer," Sigrun added with a giggle. "I thought it was clever. It could refer to the, um, action or the object." That made everyone laugh hard enough even Habren woke up briefly. Glancing over and seeing three Wardens of very much not-noble blood she made a face and fell back asleep, or pretended to. I think we'd met before. I suspected she was the girl who threatened to have me shipped south to fight darkspawn for walking too close to her in the market, so Leliana picked her pocket.

It wasn't long after that we stumbled out to head back to the compound. "They're nice," Sigrun said.

"Except for the prejudiced bitch," Caitlin slurred.

"Well, yeah," Sigrun agreed. "But you can tell no one liked her."

"I named my dog after her," I giggled. "Both bitches."

"That will _never_ get old for you, will it?" Sigrun laughed.

I shook my head. "She treated Alistair like garbage when he was a kid. Thinks she's better than everyone else."

"You can tell she thinks she's still some twenty year old beauty," Caitlin said. "I was tempted to offer her my mother's hair rinse recipe to cover grey when she made that elf comment."

"You should have," I giggled, knocking on the door of Alistair's study. A moment later Teagan, red faced and stumbling, opened it.

"Awww, party's over," he sighed. I glanced in. Oghren was sitting and talking to Alistair, who seemed unable to focus his gaze much less respond to anything to dwarf said. Eamon was snoring on a couch, while Nathaniel and Fergus were talking about something and laughing. Anders was crumpled on the floor, casting a spell wisp above himself and laughing as it spun around the room. I caught his eye and grinned. He cut off the spell and jumped to his feet, swaying once upright, and ran over to us, sweeping me into his arms with a laugh.

Arm in arm, the six of us managed to stumble our way across the palace grounds with a quick word to the new seneschal not to let us oversleep. "What did you do?" I asked when we were back. "Besides drink?"

Anders laughed. "Alistair is _so_ nervous. We spent half the night making sure he didn't worry he would, I don't know, fall down in the Chantry or something." I giggled at that. "What about you? Is she nervous?"

I shook my head. "No. A little sad, about her parents, so we tried to keep her mind off it. Our conversation was, um… less serious." Anders raised his eyebrows and stared at me expectantly. I dropped my voice to a whisper, even though we were alone in our room. "He calls it the… royal scepter!" I could barely get the last two words out without giggling.

Anders stared at me blankly before he realized what I was talking about and started laughing. "You're _kidding_ me!" Once he stopped looking Anders shook his head. "We were being all… serious, and you ladies were sitting there talking about—"

"Antivan milk sandwiches?"

"Yes!" he laughed. I grinned and told him how Isolde had provided the meaning for the term. "Is _that_ it? I expected something really risqué. That's _nothing._ Didn't we—"

"I know!" I said in agreement. Anders pulled off his robes and crawled into the bed, I followed suit. "Does he seem happy?" I asked. I was worried Alistair was using his nerves to cover for not actually wanting to get married. He had no actual choice about getting married in general, since he was king he'd be expected to at least _try_ and provide an heir. But I knew he was fairly inexperienced and, deep down, wanted a life like something out of an old story. All romance, true love, and happily ever after, which, while sweet, wasn't exactly realistic.

"He does," Anders assured me. "He's crazy about her." I smiled hearing that, relieved Alistair wasn't simply going along because he had no real choice. "Not as much as I am about you, though, of course."

* * *

_A/N: Sigrun's comment about casteless and marriage is never specifically confirmed in game, but in that origin if you talk to the surface merchant his mention that you can live better on the surface and get married by the human chantry seems to imply that they cannot get married in Orzammar._

_And I have no idea what an antivan milk sandwich is. Let's just say insert your favorite kinda-dirty but in a fun way and not a "holy crap, you did WHAT? Is that even LEGAL?" way act here._

_This is totally a filler chapter I'm not super thrilled with and didn't intend to include, but I needed to kill time to push back a major plot thing for the next chapter. Figured the fiftieth chapter deserved something a bit special, although I'm rather on edge about it. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews!_


	50. Is it treason to threaten my hair?

After a quick spell from Anders to cure our collective hangovers the six of us were able to put on our armor and ride over to join the procession. He hopped down from his horse once we joined up with the others to make sure no one else needed magical assistance recovering from the evening before.

"You should have seen the look I got when I cast a spell on the king," Anders said, climbing back onto his horse. "_Icy_."

"From who?" I asked.

"Some templar," he said. "They're all in a snit since they wanted to ride up front as the honor guard and we are instead. You know how the Chantry's always trying to play up that Alistair used to be one of theirs."

"And he thought a death sentence was better," I chuckled, glad we were at the head of the line and no one could hear our conversation.

"Well, he certainly seems impressed with the fringe benefits of marriage," Anders laughed. "He was going on last night about 'wow… I mean… wow. I figured it was fun, but… wow.'" I laughed at that. Alistair managed to say it all without saying a single thing. And I'm sure he blushed the whole time anyways. Anders had been acting strange since we woke up, this was actually the first time he'd said more than a couple words at a time to me all morning.

I glanced behind us. Anders and I were at the head of the line, Nathaniel and Oghren behind us with Caitlin and Sigrun last. Someone from the palace had put us in order, I don't know what the basis was, only that he knew our names and pointed to where we should be. Behind that was an open carriage Alistair was sitting in with Zevran, and Teagan. They were standing with him for the ceremony. He wanted me to, but the rule said only men could stand for the groom. Six templars on horseback were behind them. Elissa would be arriving separately with Fergus, who would act in place of her father, her attendants. Alfstanna and her cousin would be standing with her. She would be accompanied by knights from Highever there, but leave in the same carriage as Alistair.

After assuring the man in charge of the procession once again that yes, I was sure I knew the way to the Chantry, we set off at a slow pace. Crowds lined the streets along our route, waving and cheering as we passed by. Honestly, even if I didn't know the way I would have found it easily just by following the most packed streets. The whole of Denerim seemed to be outside and cheering. I worried about Alistair's safety sitting so openly. I guess that was what he had Zevran for, though. He could surely spot any potential assassins in the crowd. "Maker bless King Alistair," many shouted as we passed by. A few even shouted "Maker bless King Alistair and the Grey Wardens," which made me smile a bit.

Once we arrived at the Chantry and dismounted a handful of servants rushed over to take the horses away. I have no idea where they took them, and had to assume they would be returned after. They weren't our horses, we were all given white Rivani geldings for the day. We marched up in straight lines to the stairs, forming two rows and standing at attention until Alistair and his group passed through the doors. Normally we would then disappear somewhere until the ceremony ended, but since we were also guests we got seats in the front row of the groom's section. I'm sure that was a statement of some kind, as several nobles were behind us.

I smiled at Anora who was holding a very small baby with very large blue eyes in the row behind us. I also managed to spot Leliana, who waved to me. I hadn't even known she would be there, if I did I would have planned to stay an extra day or two. She was sitting with Wynne who gave me a cold nod. Sitting down, I realized it was probably a bad sign I was already anxious for the ceremony to end so I could get out of the heavy plate armor and find out why I was getting the near-silent treatment from Anders. Alistair was standing at the front of the chantry, just a couple feet away from us, shifting from foot to foot. I tried to give him a reassuring smile and he made a face at me. "If it was that easy," he whispered after walking closer to me, "you would have already done all this yourself." He cast Anders a pointed glance, making him squirm. "Exactly," Alistair said, returning to his place.

Removing my gloves and setting them beside me in the pew I took his hand. "Ignore him," I said. "Alistair's just taking his nerves out on everyone else."

"I know," he whispered. "We talked a bit last night." I started to ask him for details but he shushed me. "I think they're starting."

The ceremony proceeded without any issues. Elissa did get a bit teary-eyed when her brother put her hand in Alistair's, though, which was to be expected. The Grand Cleric, who had apparently been the Revered Mother in Highever previously, opened with a prayer. Alfstanna then read a brief passage from the Chant about love, focusing on the more romantic aspects. After another prayer Zevran read another passage about love, this time focused more specifically on passion. I resisted the urge to giggle and wondered if he picked what he would read or Alistair did knowing he would appreciate it. The Grand Cleric then read a much longer passage about the Maker creating man and woman or… something. To be completely honest, at this point I was starting get too hungry to pay attention. I had begun surreptitiously looking around at the fancy clothes everyone had on. I don't think I was doing a good job, though, since we were in the front row, and more than once Anders poked me in the side whispering to pay attention, or at least look like it, sounding more annoyed each time.

Finally the couple read their vows, exchanged rings, and after a last prayer we were done. They both remembered everything they were supposed to say, no one fell over, and no screaming maniacs burst into the room. A rousing success as far as we could measure things, at least when compared to anything else we involved ourselves in. Normally by this time of day we'd already have a bodycount.

Once it was over they walked down the aisle of the Chantry together and an usher pushed the six of us out a side door so we could rush around the building to the front. Anders and I earned several truly vicious glares from the templars present when they saw we would each be holding a staff instead of the traditional sword, but surprisingly, a large segment of the crowd cheered. I couldn't resist flashing them a grin. I caught a glimpse of Anders doing the same and we both chuckled. Once Alistair and Elissa passed through the arch and got into their carriage we mounted up and reversed our procession from the morning.

The crowds were, if anything, even louder on the way back. Guards lining the route had to physically pull people back who tried to lunge into the street to get a closer look at the royal couple. At several points my horse reared, almost throwing me to the ground. Looking behind me I saw Sigrun clutching tightly to the reigns of her horse, fear on her face. She wasn't a strong rider. Oghren and Nathaniel had broken formation slightly so they could help Caitlin box her in to keep the crowd from panicking her horse. Odds are if they did and it tried to buck her, Sigrun wouldn't be able to get it under control on her own.

The procession back took far longer, not just because of the chaos, but also because the route had been altered. Alistair and Elissa wanted to pass through all the major residential districts of Denerim, allowing as many as possible a chance to see the happy royal couple. I was glad, but not surprised, to see they even included the alienage on the itinerary. It looked like everyone there decided to make the most of the occasion. Banners and streamers hung from building to building and flowers had been planted everywhere. Fortunately the crowd there was far less chaotic, no doubt because of the icy glares Shiani was giving to anyone who looked like they might move beyond the side of the road. Everyone was still yelling and cheering, but at least no one rushed towards us.

Finally we made it back to the palace. I was thrilled to see that, while we had managed to stay mounted throughout the chaos, the templars hadn't been as fortunate. Not one, but _two _had been knocked to the ground when their horses became spooked. I suppose it was mean of me to find that funny, but I did. Once back at the palace grounds we split up, heading to the compound to change for the banquet and ball that were set to follow the ceremony.

"Ugh," I groaned, falling back onto the bed. "I hate wearing plate armor. I don't know how Oghren can stand being in it all day." Anders nodded in agreement, resisting my attempts to make conversation as he silently helped me out of my armor. He looked lost in thought. "It was nice, though. She looked really pretty. No disasters."

"True," Anders said, finally paying attention. "It was longer than I expected."

"I think they picked the longer form," I said. "Usually there aren't quite so many readings. That's what Alfstanna was telling me last night."

"The readings were nice," Anders mused as I helped him with his own armor. "I can't believe the one Zevran did, though. I didn't think they ever read that outside when they do the whole chant from start to end in Val Royeaux."

I giggled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "It was pretty racy for a Chantry." He sat next to me, arching his back and stretching. We were both in the plain linen pants and baggy shirts that went under our armor.

"Her dress looked like that green one you wore," Anders observed.

I nodded. "It was her mother's wedding dress. Same era, I think."

"Nice touch," Anders said. "It's good they don't blame Nathaniel. He and Fergus spent half the night laughing over stories from when they were kids." He chuckled. "Apparently our little Nate was the queen's first kiss. That didn't make Alistair very happy."

I laughed with him. "I can only imagine. Alistair's so old fashioned. I think he always dreamed of finding his one true love and spending every day with them and only them."

"Nothing wrong with that," Anders said, sounding defensive.

"There's not," I agreed. "But he also seemed to think that would be the first person he was ever with, and they wouldn't have anyone before him, either." I leaned my head on his shoulder. "It's a nice idea, but not really realistic." Anders made a noise of agreement. "So what was your talk with Alistair about?"

"Nothing, really," he said, his expression closing down once more. "We should get ready to go. We're supposed to be there before the bride and groom so we can cheer when they walk in."

I gave him a pointed glance but got up, unpacking my new dress and getting changed. "What's going on?" I said, lacing my gown up. "You're having secret talks with Alistair, Jowan… is anything wrong?"

"What?" Anders said, sounding surprised. "Everything's fine. Everything's fantastic. It's _really_ nothing." I raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed, looking down. "I'll tell you later on, I promise," he said. "We _really_ don't have time now. You're the king's best friend, someone will notice if we're late."

I grumbled in agreement and clipped my hair back, checking my makeup one last time in the small mirror on the wall. I tried not to think of what the demon in the fade had said, but found it running through my mind. Maybe he was questioning being with me, and checking with my closest friends to figure out the best way to break things off.

We made it to the ballroom in time, thankfully, although not by much. Anders and I had barely slipped into our seats before the king and future queen were announced. We had been given seats near their table, a place of some importance from what I could tell. Anders was next to me and I was happy to see Leliana on my other side. She greeted me with a squeeze of my arm as we stood, welcoming the royal couple. "I've missed you!" she squealed as we sat back down. "How is Amaranthine? I saw you are a hero once more."

"Much calmer now," I said. "How is Haven?"

She shrugged. "Oh, everyone talks and talks and talks, and nothing ever gets done. They are trying to decide if pilgrims should be forced to endure the gauntlet to see the ashes."

"What else would they do?"

"Move them," she said. "That is not a popular option. The Chantry has already decided not to let everyone take a pinch of them without special permission. Only in cases of great need," she said. It did make sense. Most of the people in Thedas were some form of Andrastian or another. Letting everyone take a pinch of ashes would soon leave a shrine and an empty urn. "It gets so _boring_," Leliana admitted. "Not exciting like the old days. I'm a bit jealous, I must admit. You still get to fight and have adventures!" She leaned towards me, "and I see you have a new… _friend_? You will introduce me, won't you?"

I quickly introduced Anders and Leliana. She recognized his name from what she had heard of the troubles in Amaranthine and our issues with the Chantry. "Ah, the gentleman who started all your Chantry troubles!" she chuckled. "Ohhh… when she conscripted you out from under the templars it certainly sent tongues wagging. I even heard of it all the way in Haven."

"What?" Anders said, shocked. "You're saying they only went against the Wardens because of _me_?" He looked horrified.

"Oh no," Leliana said. "It was merely the excuse they needed. Believe me, they had been waiting for _any_ reason to make their displeasure known. From the very moment the Wardens named a mage as commander, in fact." She sighed at that. "I am glad things are calmer now. The new Grand Cleric does not seem to have any interest in opposing you, from what I hear. Admittedly, I do not hear much, though. One of the templars asked why the Grand Cleric had never tried to send me to you, to utilize my… ah, former skills. Find secrets under the cloak of friendship. I told him I would sooner go to warn you, and then tell everyone who would listen what they had asked of me. I am sure it got back to her." Leliana blushed, resting a hand over mine. "That is why I have avoided you for so long. I felt awful, but did not want to put either of us in that position."

"No, it makes sense," I said. "I wouldn't have suspected anything of you, but even if you just came for a visit who knows what they would have done to get information out of you after." She nodded in agreement. We caught up throughout the meal. As soon as the plates had been cleared music began and I eyed Anders hoping he would get the hint. He seemed content to stare into space, however, paying no attention to me. I finally asked him if he wanted to dance.

"Hm? What?" he said, looking at me as though he'd forgotten I was there. "Maybe in a little while? Not right now."

"What's wrong?" I asked, since it was obvious something was bothering him.

"Nothing," Anders said, almost snapping at me. I bit my lip to keep from saying anything else and turned back to Leliana. She met my eyes with a look of concern and I shrugged, not sure what to say.

Alistair eventually made his way over to our table to say hello. "So, will you two be next?" he asked, laughing.

"Maggie doesn't believe in marriage," Anders answered quickly.

"What?" I said, surprised. "When did I say that?"

"Repeatedly," he replied, looking confused. "You're constantly saying it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't," I said. "But that doesn't mean I have some _problem_ with it. I'm just, you know, fine without it." I shrugged. "Fine either way. I don't have any issues with the idea of marriage. I just don't need some priest to, I don't know, legitimize things. Or turn me away. More that part." The latter seemed even more horrifying to me, actually. I'd long since resigned myself to the idea that whatever normal people valued would be out of reach for me. Focusing on wanting something I wouldn't get didn't seem healthy. I couldn't quite understand how 'No priest would marry us so I'm going to be happy regardless instead of moping over that like a fool' translated to Anders thinking I was somehow _opposed_ to the idea. Considering he barely seemed to want to _speak_ to me today, though, I couldn't imagine visiting the Chantry was on his mind. I worried, again thinking back to what the demon had said.

Alistair was staring at Anders, everyone else watching the two of them. Anders, for his part, was staring at the glass in front of him. "I'm going to get a drink," he announced suddenly, all but bolting across the room to where Oghren was standing by the bar.

Alistair gave me a concerned glance and I sighed. "He's been acting strange ever since we went into the fade at the Peak, but today's been the worst so far. I think…" I bit my lip and looked down. "Never mind," I said suddenly.

"What?" Alistair said.

"Well, when we went into the fade one of the demons started talking to him. She said something about how he was only with me since I kept him safe from the templars. I wonder if maybe there might be truth in that?"

He looked shocked. "You're insane."

I shrugged. "I can't think of any other explanation. Did he say something to you?"

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "I… I can barely _remember_ last night, Mags," he said. "I'm sure it's not that, though." I could tell he was lying.

"Right," I muttered.

"You always expect the worst," Leliana told me.

Alistair nodded in agreement. "True. Remember you used to wake up every morning and say 'wow, not dead yet?'"

"Maybe," I agreed.

"You should know not to listen to demons," Leliana chided me. "_You're _the one who told me how they try and trick people."

"Normal people," I said. "Mages, they mostly try to buy. Maybe she was going to offer him a way to get rid of me, or leave the Wardens without getting hunted by the Chantry, if I hadn't killed her. Maybe that's what he wants."

"Well, what did he say about this? You talked about it, yes?"

"He told me not to believe or listen to it," I said. "Jowan's theory was that the demon was really only trying to throw me off balance so I couldn't attack." She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, he's with the Wardens now."

"I think it sounds like a fine theory," Leliana said.

"You made _Jowan_ a Warden?" Alistair replied, shocked. "You're not afraid he'll, oh, I don't know, _poison _someone?"

"You know it was that or his life," I reminded Alistair. "And yes, I did. The templars caught up to him."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Alistair said.

"It was Cullen," I told him and he made a face. "They tried stationing him outside the tower, he's... not much better. But he recognized Jowan."

"I heard from the Grand Cleric that you caught a couple templars and released them to the Knight-Commander. She was impressed. I think this one's serious about a truce between the Chantry and the Wardens."

"I hope so," I said. "They didn't know where they were, so I can't really blame them." I told them about Jowan ending up in Anders' dream when we got to the fade. "And even though I was in it, and the two of them apparently talked about it later on, neither will tell me what it was. I'm just… I don't know, all these secrets. It's not like him."

"I wouldn't worry," Alistair said before wandering off. Leliana and I exchanged a glance.

I saw Anders staring at me from the bar across the room with a look of panic on his face. Oghren was talking to him, gesturing excessively, now that Alistair had joined the pair. "Remind me to turn the king into a toad," I muttered. "He can't keep his mouth shut."

"I thought you couldn't actually do that to someone," Leliana said, sounding nervous.

"I can learn," I said, looking away from the trio at the bar. I caught a glimpse of Elissa dancing with her brother and Teagan with Alfstanna. Even Nathaniel and Sigrun were dancing together.

"So," Leliana said, trying to catch my attention and distract me. "I was thinking it may be fun if I came to visit you soon. Perhaps over the summer? I have never been to Amaranthine, I hear it's very nice."

"It is," I agreed. "A bit warmer than here, and on the sea. The Keep is on a little inlet, so we can actually see the water from the northern rooms on a clear day. In the summer it smells like ocean water."

"That does sound nice," she agreed. Leliana chuckled then, blushing. "Look at me, inviting myself. You are the Warden Commander now, I'm sure you have more to do than show me around and play hostess."

"No, you should absolutely visit us," I told Leliana, resolving to enjoy myself and deal with the Anders situation later on. Servants kept placing full glasses of wine in front of me. If I didn't try and cheer up I'd end up crying and looking like a fool in front of every noble in Ferelden. "It would be fun! And I have a couple people who would really make excellent bards, too, if you're willing to give them a crash course."

"That _does_ sound like fun!" she said, smiling. "So, what do you think of Alistair's bride?" she whispered. "I haven't had a chance to talk to her yet."

"She's _very_ nice," I said. "Not at all what I expected from such an important family. She's mostly like a normal person." I shrugged. "Well, maybe not normal, but she would have fit in with us during the blight without any problems."

"High praise indeed!" Leliana grinned. "Alistair seems quite smitten with her." I glanced over at the two of them, now both sitting on a dais, heads inclined towards each other. He was telling a story, smiling from ear to ear. She was listening intently and giggling.

"He does," I agreed. "I'm glad."

Leliana dropped her voice, taking on the expression she reserved for gossip. "So… what happened with Wynne? I know you never saw eye to eye, but she seems to be colder than usual. Avoiding you outright, even!"

I shrugged. "We had a big blowout. She wanted me to go back to the circle, move them 'into the future' or something."

"Abandon the Grey Wardens? You would never do such a thing!" I made a sound of agreement. "Didn't you loathe living in that cold tower, anyway?"

"With a passion," I agreed. "I told her as much, and she went on about how I had a greater duty to the Circle. Sodding Circle can just fall off a cliff for all I care. Only Warden in the whole country compared to just one of hundreds of mages? Don't see why it has to be me." I sighed. "But… she wouldn't accept that for an answer. You know, since I disagreed with her. So I may have been a bit… forceful in my opinions."

"By which she means she ranted for half an hour about how much she hated the tower," Anders interjected, surprising me as he sat down to join us. "Oghren told me all about it. I wish I could have heard her for myself." I smiled at Anders and was relieved when he returned the expression. "Maybe it's me," he went on, putting an arm around me, "I might be wrong, but it seems like once you _escape_ from prison you don't march right back in to try and make things easier on prisoners in the future!"

"Exactly," I agreed. I glanced over at him. His skin was ruddy from drinking. "Is everything all right?" I asked in a low voice.

"Absolutely," he said, kissing me on the cheek. "But I think Oghren _may_ have been trying to kill me. Remind me never to let him order the drinks again."

Leaving his arm in place, Anders began chatting with Nathaniel, who had just sat down. I glanced at Leliana and she shrugged. Sigrun whispered something in her ear and the bard's eyes went wide. Leliana's response was delivered in the same manner, earning a similar reaction. "What?" I said.

"Nothing," they both replied quickly.

"Now you two are doing it?" I grumbled. I glanced across the room again and saw Alistair and Elissa break off from talking with the Grand Cleric, smiling broadly as he walked over to us.

"I can't believe I haven't seen you dance once all night," he said to me when they reached our group.

"Tell him," I shrugged, gesturing to Anders. Alistair bent over and said something I couldn't hear to Anders. "Maker's breath," I snapped. "Don't _order_ him to dance with me. It's fine." I felt my cheeks color with embarrassment.

I stared at the tabletop wishing I hadn't said anything to Alistair and was snapped from my moping by the sound of Anders grunting in pain. Looking over I saw Alistair's hand retreating and Anders rubbing his shoulder. "Fine!" he muttered, glaring at the king. "I _hate you_," Anders added. "I'm going to give you a fertility potion that will make you _bald_."

"Is it treason to threaten my hair?" Alistair mused aloud. "I think it should be. I might make that a law."

"What are you talking about?" I asked them. Alistair glared at Anders again and he groaned, standing up.

"Let's go for a walk," he said suddenly, pulling me to my feet. "We need to talk." I nodded mutely, stomach sinking as I following him. Maybe Alistair told him to get it over with so I wouldn't have to worry anymore. Anders dragged me across the room, stopping in the same hallway to the kitchen where we had hid from our growing crowd of fans on our last trip to Denerim. I waited for him to say something but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"What is it?" I finally asked. He didn't respond and started digging through a pocket. I caught brief flashes of light from his hand. Sensing the magic being used, a templar began to approach us. He was working his way through the crowd very quickly. "Anders, _lightning_," I whispered.

"I _know_," he hissed. "I'm _trying_." I waved the templar away with a glare, the man seemed to recognize me and retreated back to his post, still watching us closely. I could see our table from here. Leliana was whispering something to Sigrun, both giggling and grinning. "Here," Anders said in the same tone, shoving a tiny silk drawstring bag at me.

"All right," I said slowly, taking it from him and waiting for an explanation. I vaguely wondered if he bought the mythical box of presents, which I still hadn't been able to find, with him to Denerim. The idea was quickly dismissed, though. I would have noticed it: our room was far too small to hide anything successfully. I tried not to notice Caitlin, Leliana, and Sigrun sneaking closer to where we were standing. Well, no, I noticed Caitlin, and then I saw three shadowy forms creeping towards us that seemed to disappear if I looked straight at them. Damned rogues.

He tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and cursed as a stray spark hit his skin. "I got that for you. If you want it," Anders said. "If you don't that's… that's fine," he added quickly, still refusing to look directly at me.

"What are you talking about?" I said, picking the knot in the drawstring open. Anders watched my hands, not replying. Once I managed to get the knot undone I opened the bag and emptied it onto my palm. A ring tumbled out. "What?"

"You don't want it," he said, reaching to take it back from me. His bizarre behavior was suddenly beginning to make sense.

"What?" I said again, closing my hand over the ring. "No! Wait, I mean yes."

"Yes?" Anders repeated, finally looking at me.

I jammed the ring on my finger before turning on him. "You _jerk_," I snapped. Anders jumped back, shocked. "I've been worried sick that you were planning to… break things off!" He gave me a sheepish look.

"Andraste's sword, why would I do that?" Anders said. "I've just been a bit nervous. I think that's perfectly justified." He smirked at me then. "I surprised you, though, didn't I?"

I couldn't stop myself from grinning back at him, Anders could use that smirk to convince me to walk straight off a cliff if he wanted. "You did," I admitted. He leaned over to kiss me but an irate Orlesian accent interrupted us.

"_That's_ it?" Leliana said, stepping out of whatever shadow she had been hiding in, a look of annoyance on her face. Sigrun and Caitlin, slipping from cover near her, giggled.

"What?" Anders said, folding his arms.

She looked exasperated and turned to me. "Maggie, you don't want to make him ask properly?" I must have looked horrified at the thought since she turned on her heel and stormed off, muttering "worst proposal _ever_" under her breath, followed by several choice words in Orlesian about what sounded like Ferelden women and mages in general.

* * *

_A/N: I was listening to the remaster of Only Theater Of Pain while writing and feel like some of this took a definite turn for the goth at points. Such is the power of Rozz Williams, I suppose. So I had to go through and remove a shovelful of angst from this chapter. _

_Ta-da, fiftieth chapter! I've been hinting at this for a while now, so I doubt it was a huge shock to anyone. Or maybe it was and I went so far OOC I'll get a lot of angry reviews. Time will tell. _

_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and sticking with me through... wow...over 320K words so far.  
_


	51. Is there something in the water here?

Anders and I managed to force ourselves to return to the banquet. It was that or leave completely, since our kissing and pawing at each other in the hall was beginning to attract attention. "So—"

"Yes, we can dance now," Anders said, laughing. Unfortunately that didn't quite work out as the moment we returned to the ballroom proper we were inundated by people wanting to talk to us. "This is _horrible_," Anders whispered after the tenth person we barely knew offered us congratulations. "We can't even walk ten feet without someone stopping us! _Who_ told everyone already?"

"I know!" I whispered back after smiling and thanking someone else. I think it was a brother of the Bann of… somewhere. I think I'd met them once before. Maybe.

"Is this… will it always be like this?" he asked. I looked at him and shrugged. "Right. You wouldn't know, either," he admitted.

Leliana caught my eye and must have realized we were both on the edge of running from the room before someone was accidentally frozen solid. She ran over and grabbed me by the arm, offering apologies to the nobles as she guided Anders and I back to our table. Surrounded by a wide buffer of our friends I sighed with relief. "They're all... _looking_ at us," I complained.

"His fault," Oghren said. Felsi smacked him on the head and he grumbled. "What? It is. Sparklefingers is the one who decided to spring this in the middle of every sodding noble on the surface."

"Alistair _made_ me," Anders protested. "I didn't want to ask _here_."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "You didn't want to ask at all. How long have you been carrying that ring with you?"

Anders shrugged and mumbled something. "Can we talk about something else?" he finally said, flagging down a passing servant and grabbing two drinks from her tray. She congratulated us before moving on.

"Agreed," I said, sipping the wine.

"No!" Leliana exclaimed. "It's so exciting! What will you wear? Will it be in the Chantry here, or in Amaranthine? How many people will you invite? Oooh, can I help you plan everything?" I stared at her in growing horror. "Hm. Perhaps we should start small," she mused, no doubt realizing I was ready to hide under the table and refuse to come out until everyone was gone. "Can I see your ring?" I gingerly held my hand out and she examined it. "Silver?" she said finally, surprised.

"I like silver," I answered. "Most of my enchanted rings and amulets are silver."

"Yes, but gold is so much more traditional," she protested. "This isn't some ring to make your spells better!" She shook her head. "And what is this stone? It's _blue_. Diamonds aren't _blue_."

"It's a sapphire," Anders said. "Blue is her favorite color. And we all know how much Maggie _loves_ tradition," he chuckled. "Besides, it actually _is_ a ring to make spells better. I enchanted it myself."

I hadn't even noticed that and pulled my hand away to take a closer look. "Lightning?" I asked. He nodded and I couldn't help but smile. "That's perfect," I said, brushing my fingers against his cheek. I preferred frost spells, but Anders always went to lightning when he wanted to cause damage. I couldn't help but associate that spell family with him, it seemed fitting.

"I know," Anders said with a grin, looking very proud of himself.

"You are hopeless," Leliana said with a laugh. I laughed with her and looked around. Most people were starting to trickle out, Alistair and Elissa had already left to spend their wedding night alone. They still had the coronation to go to the next day, after all. Anders poked me in the side and I grinned. We quickly wished everyone goodnight and bolted for the door before anyone else could stop us.

We passed a couple templars who turned to glare at us as we cut across the palace grounds. Neither of us were wearing robes but, as Anders often said, the big 'I'm a mage' sign we wore never really went away. I called out "Grey Wardens" before they could turn on us. They grumbled and we went on our way, ignoring them. We made it to the compound and nodded to the seneschal before slipping into our own tiny room. Anders locked the door and turned to grin at me. I giggled as he pinned me against the wall and started pushing my dress up. Having a better idea after a moment he abandoned that attempt and turned his attention to his own wardrobe instead. "Damn pants," he muttered, fumbling with the ties. "This would have been the perfect time for robes."

I giggled and dropped my underwear on the floor. "Bed?"

"Eventually," he said, finally winning his battle against the formalwear. A hand slid under my dress and up my thigh. Anders gave an appreciative growl as his fingers discovered I was already slick. I moaned and began moving my hips against his hand. He removed his hand after a few minutes and began pushing my skirts up over my hips. I grumbled in frustration.

"Patience," Anders chuckled, picking me up by the backs of my thighs while I fumbled with my dress. I sighed with pleasure feeling him push into me.

Knowing the others were still at the banquet and everyone else had spent the night on the town joining in the local celebrations I didn't bother muffling my cries. "Harder," I begged, clawing at his shoulders through his doublet. Anders complied, and a picture fell off the wall a few feet away from where he had me pinned. We both paused and looked over before giggling.

"Deal with that later," Anders mumbled before returning his attention to me. I tugged at his hair, releasing the ponytail so I could twist my hand through it. He chuckled and slammed into me hard enough I could hear my dress rip where it was rubbing against the rough plaster wall. Gasping out "again," I squeezed my legs tighter around his hips. With a loud moan he complied and I cried out, throwing my head back and barely feeling it strike the wall before going limp. He kept going, though, causing me to gasp or cry out with every thrust, my nerves overwhelmed enough that I shook. Eventually Anders gave a guttural shout before sinking to his knees, still holding onto me. "I think I ruined your dress," he said after a moment of silence where we both fought to catch our breath.

"It's a stupid dress," I mumbled, holding tightly to him. "I'd rather just wear robes to these things."

"So tomorrow you will," he chuckled. We sat together on the floor, arms wrapped around each other tightly. "You know," Anders said eventually, "we must look absolutely absurd. Half dressed."

"So, should we fix our clothes?" I laughed.

"There's a thought," he said. "However, _another_ thought is to get rid of the clothes completely. And relocate."

"You are an absolute _genius_," I giggled, untying the laces of my dress and tossing it aside. "No wonder I love you."

"I do try," he said. Anders looked at me, now completely naked, on his lap. "Um, Maggie?"

"Hmmm?" I said, leaning against him once more.

He sighed. "I can't believe I'm about to say this," Anders said, "but you need to get off of me."

I laughed and stood up, crossing the room and crawling into bed while he ditched his clothes. "You ripped my doublet," he said, tossing it to the floor. "You need to cut your nails shorter or I won't have anything left without holes in it!"

"So you can wear robes, too," I said, snuggling under the blankets next to him.

Anders chuckled. "Nathaniel is going to turn that _fantastic_ shade of red when we both show up waving our mage flags."

"I'm pretty sure most people know," I said. I gasped then, remembering suddenly what I'd managed to never forget in the years Anders and I had been together. "Maker's breath," I groaned. "_Where_ are we going to find a Chantry that will even let us in the door?"

He sat up and looked at me with a proud grin. "It's all in hand," Anders assured me. "Alistair spoke to the Grand Cleric."

"_Really?" _To say I was shocked would be an understatement.

"Really," Anders said. "I'd been using that as my excuse for, you know, being a coward and all." He grinned at me. "He asked her today. And then he threatened to smite me if I didn't say something."

"So Alistair already knew?" I said, surprised.

"I may have said something last night. While drinking, though, so it barely counts."

"Who else?" I asked.

"Well, Teagan and Eamon where there last night, so they heard me. Oghren already did before we got here, obviously," he said. I raised an eyebrow and giggled. Anders had teased me for accepting romantic advice from Oghren years earlier, now it seemed he was doing the same. "Nathaniel, since he was with me when I got the ring—"

"When was that?"

"The last time we were in Denerim, when you and Ronan got drunk while Nathaniel and I went shopping."

I gasped. "_That_ long ago?"

He shrugged. "Well, I kind of got it on a whim. I just thought it would be something you'd like. He's the one who asked if it was an engagement ring. Besides the whole not-gold and not-diamond thing."

"I don't like gold or diamonds," I said.

"Well, _I_ know that," Anders said. "So _anyways_, that made me think. And I just kind of put it in my pocket and left it there while I thought. For several months."

"Anyone else?" I asked him.

"Jowan," Anders said. "I kind of had no choice there, though." I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to go on. "Well, I've been thinking about it. Quite a bit, actually. More than I suspected, perhaps, since when we went into the fade apparently the version of you he met thanked him for coming to our wedding and, um, introduced him to my parents." He sighed. "I don't know, I was thinking about them, too. They were always so happy. They were in love, but they were friends, too. It seemed like we were always laughing and having fun at home. They were… like _us_." He sighed. "I know you were taken away too young to really see anything like that with your family. I guess part of me always wanted that kind of life, though." Anders didn't seem to be finished, so I didn't say anything and waited for him to go on. He wasn't really talking to _me,_ just talking while staring off into the distance. He made a face before continuing. "It just frustrates me that whenever we travel anywhere someone assigns me a room I never use, whenever we get new recruits they assume we're married and when they find out we're not make… comments."

"They do?" I said, shocked. No one had ever said a word to me, not even Nathaniel, who made a point of telling me how my behavior would be perceived by others on a regular basis, other than a single crack about the "order of equals" only days after I arrived in Amaranthine, before there was really anything going on to speak of.

"Well, not to _us_," he said. "But Jowan's heard more than one wonder just how available you or I might be. It isn't an uncommon attitude."

"I didn't know," I said. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Jowan told me when I talked to him about the fade. He said I'd better do something before some girl made a pass at me and you froze her solid in a jealous rage."

I laughed at that. "He did not!"

"He did!" Anders insisted. "Of course, he also pointed out how surprising it was that I hadn't done that to some hopeful young man yet myself."

"_That_ I can believe," I said.

"It's tempting," Anders said with a grin and a dramatic flash of lightning in his hand. "I know we'll never be normal. The little house somewhere, kids, whatever. And that's… that's _fine_. I don't think either of us would be cut out for that life even if there wasn't so much preventing it." I squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture. While I had no doubt I wouldn't be cut out for that kind of life, I could see Anders managing it very easily. I suspected he knew as much, too. "This is just… a bit closer to that, you know? I'm tired of people being dismissive of us because of one stupid bloody ceremony any dimwitted moron in Ferelden can have."

"That makes sense," I said finally. While I couldn't claim to see what the big deal was with saying a few words in front of some priest, if it mattered to him I'd do it. I couldn't claim the way people looked at us when they realized we weren't already married didn't annoy me on occasion, either. "Just… one thing," I said. He looked over at me, a nervous expression on his face. "It doesn't have to be _big_ does it? Like… all this today?"

"Andraste's knickers, no," Anders said, sounding relieved. "For all I care we can sneak off and tell everyone after."

"That's allowed?" I asked.

"I think, for us, the Chantry would _prefer_ that," Anders said. I sighed with relief. Anders shook his head at me and reached over, pulling me closer to him. "We don't have to decide anything _tonight_," he reminded me. "Now quit distracting me from the naked woman in my bed."

I decided that just _had_ to be a challenge.

* * *

The Denerim Seneschal woke us the next day with a knock on the door. "Commander," he called from the other side after I'd mumbled an acknowledgement that I was awake, "a messenger from the King is here, he wants to meet with you before the coronation. Official business."

I groaned and crawled from bed, cleaning as quickly as I could before digging out clean robes and dressing. "Hopefully I won't be long," I told Anders who was still half-asleep. He mumbled something and kissed my hand before falling back asleep.

I followed the messenger back to Alistair's study, where they knocked on the door and quickly disappeared. I was surprised to see Fergus Cousland open the door to admit me. Eamon was already seated by the fire, Alistair and Elissa curled up on a couch together. "Morning," I mumbled, still exhausted, before dropping into a vacant seat. "Something wrong?"

"Not at all," Eamon said. "But we wanted you involved in this."

Elissa stood up and reached for my hand, examining the ring without asking. I'm fairly sure I was blushing, already sick of the extra attention. "Pretty," she said finally.

I nodded. "Anders has good taste. Better than me, to be honest." Did they drag me from bed to talk about jewelry?

"Don't worry, we didn't get you up this early to gossip about weddings," she said with a grin. I guess my expression made that thought fairly obvious. "Fergus and I had a plan, but we need your help." I perked up, curious.

"It's tradition for the king to grant his bride a boon on the day of her coronation," Alistair said. I nodded, still not sure what this had to do with me.

"There's nothing I need," Elissa said. "I married a wonderful man yesterday and I'm going to be Queen of Ferelden in a few hours, what could I ask for? Most ask for a better title for their families, but, well, Highever is second only to the crown as it is. Fergus had a wonderful idea, though."

"You heard about what happened to me on the North Road?" he asked.

"I did," I said. "Pardon me for saying, but you really shouldn't be on that road alone as it is. I wouldn't even ride the North Road by myself, and I kill things for a living! You should travel with guards!"

"I know," he said, looking embarrassed. "I've heard all this from her, believe me." Elissa nodded violently in agreement. "Well… if your people hadn't come along, I hate to think what would have happened. They saved my life, I have no doubt of it." He paused for a moment. "_Nathaniel_ saved my life. He took an arrow for me. Our healers were able to fix him up, it was just a shoulder wound, but if he hadn't stepped in it would have gone right through my heart." I gasped. Nathaniel hadn't told me that part. Fergus nodded in confirmation.

"So, you know the Amaranthine controlled by the Wardens isn't as large as what Howe once owned," Alistair said. "A third of the Arling was given to the Couslands, and Highever expanded, because they suffered so much at his hands directly." I nodded, remembering Eamon explaining that to me before I left to take over.

"I'm going to ask that the Howe family be restored," Elissa said. "Fergus is going to grant them the portion of Amaranthine that is now in Highever. We wanted to know if you would be willing to break the arling up further."

I gasped. Nathaniel would be beside himself. I also felt my stomach drop. Would he leave us to take up running the family's new land? I couldn't keep this from him, though. Not out of selfishness. "As long as the Wardens retain the Keep and Soldier's Peak in the coastal mountains you can take everything else, for all I care. I'd just need the normal tithes then to keep the order running since we wouldn't get tax revenue."

"I figured you'd say that," Alistair said, smiling. Eamon pulled out a map with lines drawn on it. It spit the Arling from east to west along the North Road. By the new lines we would retain Feravel Plains and the city of Amaranthine, as well as most of the northern coastline, while the Howe family would regain control of Knotwood Hills, the whole of the Blackmarsh peninsula, the Hafter River, and the Wending woods.

"Most of the revenue comes from the city," Eamon said. "You should be no worse off than before, since your forces won't be spread as thin." I nodded in agreement, not entirely understanding the financial details but knowing Eamon wouldn't have reason to lie to me. "This will also allow the new Arling access to the Amaranthine Ocean."

"Is this all right with you, Mags?" Alistair asked.

I shrugged. "You know I hate that political stuff. I can't stand being an Arlessa, or acting Arlessa, or whatever, and it _does_ distract from my real job. Just tell me where to sign."

"What do you think he'll do?" Alistair asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't _want_ him to leave us, but I won't stop him if he wants to. Having his name restored will mean the world to him." I sighed. "If it comes down to it, I can make Sigrun my new lieutenant, unless she goes with him. If she does, I can name Rose."

"You have some preference for rogues?" Alistair laughed.

"Most warriors aren't taught to lead or give orders. Not at the stage we get them, at least. Generals have years of experience usually, and none of my people have that. Rogues are better at thinking on their feet and acting without waiting for orders from someone else, it's a key part of their training." I shrugged. "Keep in mind, I can count the Wardens over thirty years on one hand. We basically had to start from scratch, almost everyone is under five and twenty."

"Sound reasoning," Eamon said, actually sounding slightly impressed. He set out several papers. I signed each with my name and title and, once done, excused myself so I could get breakfast before I started gnawing on the furniture. Since it was several hours before the coronation and Anders was in all likelihood still sleeping, I headed over to the alienage, grabbing a snack on the way. I had letters to drop off from Aidan and several other Wardens. I didn't expect Shianni to be up, but I could slip it under her door.

To my surprise the alienage was a buzz of activity when I arrived. She was awake, and directing people in swapping the white and blue ribbons and banners for red and gold ones. I waved to her, any strange reactions I may have received as an unknown human walking into the alienage were cut short when she returned the greeting. I suppose I wasn't as unknown as most, though.

"I have mail," I said after we exchanged greetings. "The top is from Aidan to you, the others are from other Wardens to their families."

"About time he's written," she said. "Rose told me he survived but I was starting to worry!"

"Is she around?" I asked, curious.

"Somewhere. I saw her last night with that other Warden… can't remember his name. They could barely walk straight, so I suspect they're sleeping it off at her parents' house." Shianni suddenly looked guilty. "I hope I didn't just get them in trouble."

I chuckled at that. "No shame enjoying their time off."

She grinned at me. "So I heard your big news last night, but you snuck out before I could say anything. Will I get an invitation?"

I blushed. "I don't even know if we're going to have a big… thing. We kind of want to just sneak off and get it done." I hoped she wasn't offended by that.

"Can't say I'm surprised," she said, sounding more amused than anything else.

We talked a while longer until I realized the others would be getting up. "If you see Rose and Roland can you let them know to meet us at our compound if they want to go to the coronation?" I asked before taking my leave.

Anders was just getting up when I returned. In a quiet voice I told him about my meeting. "Do you think he'll leave?" he asked me after a moment. Like me, Anders had reacted first with happiness for Nathaniel before the worry kicked in.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe. I don't think he could stay with Sigrun if he's an Arl, though. That could keep him with the Wardens."

He nodded in agreement. The nobility would react to a tattoo-covered casteless dwarf among their ranks with almost as much friendliness as they had to a common-born mage. "I guess we'll see."

There was a commotion outside our door. The two of us walked towards the front room to see what the shouting was. Rose and Roland had returned, and were in the middle of a loud argument. "Problem?" I asked.

"I'll say," Rose replied.

"Rose, what's the big deal?" Roland said before she could continue. "It isn't going to _change_ anything."

"Andraste's ass it's not," she snapped. Everyone else had come out to watch. "We went out for some drinks last night. There was a big party in the alienage, tons of ale." I nodded, waiting to see what was wrong. "I don't remember what happened, but when I woke up _this_ was in my pocket!" She violently flung a piece of vellum down on a table. I picked it up and started laughing.

"You're kidding!" I said, passing it to Anders who chuckled before showing the others.

"Fine, laugh it up," she said. "It doesn't seem right. We were _drunk_! Shouldn't they have just… turned us away?"

"Maybe you hid it well?" Sigrun suggested. Rose glared at her.

Oghren chuckled. "We had a saying back in Orzammar. In ale there's truth." He shrugged. "Maybe you just had to get drunk to do what you wanted."

"I _hate_ that saying," Felsi said. "Is there something in the water here or something? First those two, now this?"

Rose looked over at me. "What, you two got drunk and eloped, too?"

Anders snorted. "No, I can't say we did _that_." I held up my hand. Roland grinned and clapped Anders on the shoulder. Rose narrowed her eyes at me.

"I'm blaming your influence for this," she said.

I rolled my eyes. "So get it annulled if you're that upset." Roland looked pained at this suggestion and, unsurprisingly, so did Rose. "Yeah, that's what I figured," I laughed. "Come on, we need to go clap for our new queen."

"You're wearing _that_?" Nathaniel said, taking in the sight of Anders and I in mage robes.

"My dress got ripped."

"So did my doublet," Anders added.

"How?" he asked and then quickly raised a hand. "Never mind. _Do not_ answer that." He sighed. "Well, it's not like everyone doesn't already know you're mages. I just wish you didn't feel the need to rub it in people's faces constantly."

"Come on," I sighed. "Let's just go. I want to get decent places to stand. The Landsmeet chamber will be packed."

"Why do you care so much?" Nathaniel asked. "I thought you hated politics."

"It's exciting," I said neutrally, turning to walk out the door so he couldn't see my face.

* * *

_Thanks so much to everyone who weighed in on the last chapter. I love reviews, and I'm so happy it came as a pleasant surprise (or not-so-surprising surprise)_


	52. And here I was being sarcastic

We did manage to get spots near the front of the room, although that was more due to people stepping away in fear when they saw two mages inching closer to them than to a timely arrival on our parts. "Maybe we should just shout 'magic behind you' and watch them scatter," Anders whispered. "That would get us to the front in no time!" The coronation went off without a hitch. The Grand Cleric did look at me strangely when she saw Anders and I standing hand in hand, though, which made me worried. I wondered why but decided it must have been disapproval of our wardrobe choices. "Is there anything my queen would ask of me?" Alistair said. I squeezed Anders' fingers, nervous. Leliana slipped up near us and grinned.

"Isn't this exciting?" she said. "I've never been to a coronation!" I offered her a smile back and said something neutral, hoping I wouldn't ruin the surprise with my nerves. "I wonder what boon she'll ask for. Her only family is… second to the King himself, I believe. I've read asking for titles for relatives is common, but that wouldn't be necessary here."

Elissa looked towards our group and smiled. "I have everything I could dream of," she said. "And my family wants for nothing the Crown could provide." People around us began to murmur, confused. "But it pains me to see a childhood friend suffer, a friend who has saved the life of my own dear brother and so many others besides, because of another man's actions. Rendon Howe is dead, and he deserved nothing better, but his children are innocent. I ask that their name be restored." I glanced over and saw Nathaniel's jaw drop. He took a step back and glanced around the room as if he was expecting someone to charge at him in an attack.

"Did you know?" he whispered to me. I shushed him so he would hear Alistair.

Alistair smiled and looked out at the room. "Let it be known that the portion of the Arling of Amaranthine south of the North Road, as well as the section granted to Highever previously, will be restored to the Howe family. The remainder will continue to be ruled and administered by the Grey Wardens as the Bannorn of Griffon Coast." I grinned at that, Alistair hadn't mentioned the new name to me. It also knocked me down a peg in terms of my status as a noble, which was just fine by me. Banns didn't have nobles sworn to them, only freeholders. It was one step closer to getting out of politics completely. I suspected it would get confusing that the city of Amaranthine wasn't in the Arling of Amaranthine, though. Anders groaned hearing the new name and I elbowed him.

"Not my idea," I swore in a low voice.

"I only believe that because I've _met_ our fine monarch."

Nathaniel gasped and put a hand to his head, seeming frozen to the floor. Sigrun looked over at him, her face a mixture of joy and fear. I suspected she worried he would accept and leave us all behind, just as I did. She had more to lose than any of us, though. Alistair glanced down at Nathaniel and gestured him forward. He didn't budge, staring forward blankly until Sigrun whispered something to him and gave him a little shove. Nathaniel looked at her for a moment and smiled slightly before walking up onto the dais. "This… this is a surprise," Nathaniel said, almost too softly for the rest of the room to hear. "The Howe line reaches back to Calenhad and the founding of Ferelden. That my father chose to disgrace our good name has caused me no end of pain. I… am shocked and grateful that Queen Elissa has chosen to use her boon to restore the honor of my family." He paused and smiled over in our direction again. "However, I am a Grey Warden. I ask that control of this new territory be granted to my nephew Elias, with my sister Delilah as his regent until he comes of age."

I saw Sirgun sag with relief. I may have done the same thing. Nathaniel looked shocked when people applauded that. I admit, I was, too. Bringing him with me to a landsmeet once had prompted complaints, but it seemed like people's opinions had changed. I suspect the stories of his saving the civilians at the Keep when we were attacked combined with rescuing Fergus Cousland from bandits had been enough to prove he wasn't like his father. I almost rolled my eyes at that. Sure, they would judge him on his own merits, but only after he had to publicly prove himself a hero twice over. Leliana glanced at Sigrun, taking in her expression. "Oh, you know he would never leave you," she said. "Just seeing how he looks at you is enough to tell me that much."

"I like her," Sigrun said with a grin.

"Yeah, me too," I agreed, giving Leliana's arm a squeeze. "You should see her take down an ogre, too. It's like watching someone dance. With knives." The bard smiled proudly at that and I glanced around the room.

People had started to mingle and chat now that the ceremony was over. I saw Nathaniel embrace Fergus and Elissa in turn before returning to our small group and taking Sigrun's hand in his. "You knew about this," he said to me.

"I found out this morning," I confirmed. "They wanted my permission to split Amaranthine. I said as long as we kept our two fortresses your family could take the whole arling, but Eamon wanted the Wardens to keep the city so they wouldn't have to worry about paying us tithes."

"Makes sense," he said, still looking shocked. "I'll have to tell Delilah when we get home." He shook his head. "You didn't worry I'd leave?"

I shrugged. "I did," I admitted. "I even had a short list of who might possibly be able to take over as the second in command, as much as I'd hate for you to go. But… what could I do? I knew how much this would mean for you, should I prevent it just so you don't leave the Wardens? It was going to happen anyways, and being greedy about _land_ just because I don't want to lose you would be pretty low." Nathaniel seemed to fall deep into thought after that.

"Next time could you warn _me_ at least!" Sigrun said, still looking on edge.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have a chance to," I said. She made a face at me.

Anders tapped me on the shoulder and pointed across the room. Alistair was talking to the Grand Cleric. He glanced back from us to her repeatedly, looking more upset with every word. I watched him stalk off in disgust. _This can't be good_, I thought. She was still staring at us, as though she wanted to get my attention without actually approaching our group. "Wonder what this is about?" I mused.

"There was another mage riot last night," Anders said. "Maybe that."

"There was?" I hadn't heard anything. I'd learned "mage riot" was the term people had applied to families and neighborhoods who resisted allowing the templars to take children away to the tower.

He nodded. "I overheard the compound staff talking about it while you were meeting with Alistair. Two templars dead and the child they were trying to bring in to the circle has disappeared along with their entire family. The entire neighborhood is pretending they didn't even know the people who lived there, but most were involved from what I hear."

"What will we do if one of those happens in Amaranthine?" Nathaniel asked. "Er, Griffon Coast, I mean." He made a face. "I can't believe that name. Your influence?"

"No, I didn't find out until he said it just now," I said. "And I don't know _what_ we'll do. I really… I can't support the Chantry in this, I just can't. I might excuse myself from doing _anything_ and let you decide." I made a face. "There's no way I could be impartial."

"Is this common?" he asked. "Did you know many other mages whose parents fought to keep them?"

"Just Anders and Aidan," I said. "It was a different time then, apparently."

"What did yours do?" Sigrun asked.

I made a face. "Called me a monster and locked me in my room until the templars arrived. When they were carrying me off I managed to squirm away and ran back towards them. My father said I was an abomination and kicked me when I tried to hold onto him." I sighed.

"Ancestor's tits," Oghren muttered, looking disgusted. His daughter now was about the age I'd been when I was taken away. "Well, I say we stay out of it completely. Makes me sodding sick the way your surface church expects people to just… hand over their children like it was nothing. No better than the noblehunters leaving their girl babies to die in the Deep Roads. Any parent who wouldn't fight for their own isn't worth being spit on."

Felsi smiled at him and nodded. "If they want to keep doing this, they should have to fight for it. Let them deal with their own mess. I'd kill anyone who tried to get between me and my daughter, I figured the same went for any parent."

Oghren had always written to his daughter frequently, but he'd become even more involved since Felsi had moved to the Keep. I often saw him teaching the tiny girl with hair as red as his own how to use the practice weapons in the yards, despite her being only four years old. "And another thing," he went on. "If your folks ever figure out just what happened to their kid and come knocking, I say you leave me alone with them for a good hour or two."

"Not a chance," Anders said quickly.

"All right, me and sparklefingers, then. We'll have a nice friendly chat." I shook my head and laughed then. Something told me it wouldn't be an issue. I glanced over and saw the Grand Cleric was still staring at me. With a sigh I excused myself and walked over to her.

"Your Grace," I said, bowing as I'd seen other nobles do.

"Commander," she replied, looking guilty and nervous. Never a good combination, and I already suspected why. She wouldn't look guilty if she wanted me to speak out about the riots, so it had to be something else. This seemed a perfect time to put some of Leliana's bard training to use.

"I wanted to thank you, when I heard of your conversation with the king I was… overwhelmed." I smiled, noticing how her eyes flicked away from my gaze. _So that's how it is? Fine, then_. I went on, resisting the urge to snap at her right away. "It means the _world_ to us that we can get married like anyone else in Thedas." She visibly winced, still not saying anything. "I can't thank you enough. Our lives as Wardens… they're so difficult. Both of us have come so close to dying from injuries so many times over. Just knowing we would at least have the respect given to a surviving spouse when that does finally happen…" I managed to whip up a few tears I quickly blinked away. _Think of Dane, think of Dane,_ I chanted, summoning my memories of my dead mabari to make my eyes cloud over. "It's a great relief to me," I finally said, sounding like I was fighting back tears.

She sighed, still refusing to meet my eyes. "When His Majesty said the Hero of Ferelden wished to be married he _should_ have mentioned the gentleman in question was another mage. I didn't realize until today."

I played dumb. "That's… that's not a problem, is it? Anders and I have been together for _years_, we've never hidden our relationship. I'm sure Alistair thought you already know who my intended was. After all, your predecessors had targeted the two of us specifically, more than once."

The Grand Cleric sighed. "I've never read those papers," she admitted. "It was a dark time for the Chantry in Ferelden. We are weak here, when compared to Orlais or the Free Marches. It made us weaker. I wanted nothing to do with whatever those women had been involved with. But this… this could set a dangerous precedent. I'm not entirely sure if I'm comfortable with it."

"A dangerous precedent?" I said, eyebrows raised and dropping all pretense of gratitude. "You _can't_ be serious. Two of my wardens eloped last night, they were so drunk neither can even _remember_ what happened, and someone who saw them told me they could barely walk. The Chantry is fine with marrying people who are unable to even understand their own actions, but two consenting adults who happen to be mages is a danger?" I sighed and dropped my voice. "If you're concerned about our magic being passed on, let me be honest. A simple ceremony will have nothing to do with that. I'm sure you're aware of how little stock mages place in formality. If I had any intention of having a child, if I was even physically capable of such a thing, it would have happened already." That was just vague enough to assuage any of her fears without revealing Warden secrets. Let her think I'd somehow injured myself leaving me barren, it was the same end result after all.

"Let me think on this," she said finally.

"Please do," I said flatly. "I'm sure it would be very embarrassing for word to get out that the Hero of Ferelden had to go to the Tevinter Imperium, the Dalish or the Orzammar shaperite for her wedding since the Chantry refused." I hated that title, I hated throwing my own importance around, but Maker's breath, I dreaded telling Anders about this conversation even more.

"Pardon?" she said, looking shocked.

I shrugged. "Anders wants to get married, but he didn't even ask me until after Alistair told him the Chantry wouldn't turn us away. I never seriously considered it since _this_ is exactly what I expected, but I find myself warming to the idea more and more. It will happen, one way or another. If you refuse to help us, well, we'll just go elsewhere, and I have _no_ problem letting anyone who asks know exactly why."

"You're putting me in a very difficult position," she said. "Although _you_ may not be at risk for passing on the curse of magic, what about other mages who ask the same of us and cite you as an example?" The Grand Cleric shook her head. "You must know of the problems we have been facing as of late. Sympathy for those born… like you is higher than it has ever been." She made a face at this and I bit my tongue. "Our holy templars are assaulted in the course of their duties and people have been demanding for the Circle of Magi to be freed. If you do this it would only add to the problems here."

"You'll have to excuse me if I have trouble feeling much sympathy for your plight," I said dryly. "And I'll remind you the _curse_ of magic, as you put it, saved this nation from a blight."

She sighed again, sounding more annoyed than sad. "I don't want to continue the hostility between the Chantry and Grey Wardens, but don't confuse that for a change in Chantry dogma. I consider myself a pragmatic woman. I think your abilities are an affront to the Maker, and I think the Grey Wardens committed a grave sin by naming you Commander, one that this nation compounded by making you a noble in all but name." I narrowed my eyes at her and waited for her to go on. "After the occupation ended many were crying for the Chantry of Ferelden to break from Val Royeaux because of their role in assisting Orlais. Few realize how close we came to that happening. It was only the threat of an Exalted March against Ferelden that kept us connected to the Divine." I didn't see what this had to do with me. "You must realize few in Ferelden are as openly beloved as you. If the Chantry continues to fight with the Wardens, with _you_, we only hurt ourselves. I've already heard those same demands for a Chantry of Ferelden repeated openly in the streets, as boldly as I did in those first days of independence." She narrowed her own eyes back at me. "You insist on flaunting your magic and your separation from the Circle openly. It risks throwing our nation into war with the Divine."

I stared at her, shocked. I couldn't say I was surprised by her attitude towards me, but that she considered _me_ a threat to the Chantry itself? It seemed preposterous. The last few words really stuck in my ears, though. "_Flaunting_ my magic?" I asked. "I wear light armor. I fight with blades. Would you ask me to confine myself to Vigil's Keep so no one has to be reminded that I exist and am, in fact, a mage?"

"Ideally, yes," she said, almost too quickly. And here I was being sarcastic. "I'm sure the duties of the Warden Commander are largely administrative."

"Actually, they're not," I said. "The First Warden sent me people for that. I'm Commander because I'm the best at killing darkspawn in Ferelden. Maybe in Thedas." I grinned at her, enjoying watching her squirm. "Sorry, but I take the safety of this nation too seriously to even _consider_ your suggestion. Unfortunate that you don't feel the same." I spun on my heel and returned to the other Wardens, her expression of shock the last thing I saw.

"Problem?" Anders asked.

I shrugged. "Alistair neglected to tell her _you_ were also a mage. She's… not pleased. She also made a point of telling me even though the Chantry no longer _actively_ wants me dead I'm still an affront to the Maker. Oh, and that the Wardens and Ferelden in general committed a grave sin by appointing me Commander and making me an Arlessa. Well, a Bann now."

He sighed. "So much for that idea."

"Screw her," I muttered. "We'll just go to Orzammar or the Dalish."

"Really?" he said, surprised. "I didn't think it mattered that much to you."

I took his hand, linking our fingers together. "It does because it matters to you," I said. "We'll figure something out." He put an arm around me and kissed my forehead. I heard a sigh from behind us and turned to look.

"Now _that_ is properly romantic," Leliana said with approval, her hands over her heart. "But you are making it too complex."

I raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Orzammar? Dalish?" she waved a hand. "It seems to me that most mages would look _just like_ normal people when they do not wear the robes."

"I don't know," Anders said thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a fingertip. "The nudity may attract a whole different sort of attention."

"What?" Leliana said, "no! I mean dress as normal people. Wear peasant rags if you must. Not… naked! Maker's breath." She looked at him like he was insane for a moment before Anders and I both burst into laughter. "Oh… I…" She blushed, realizing it had been a joke. "I see what you did there! You're as bad as she is, do you know that?"

"I'll take that as a compliment" Anders said. He looked thoughtful then, apparently considering her suggestion. "We would need to go somewhere that they don't know us by face," he finally said. "Not at home, not here."

"That little village on the old Highever border?" I suggested.

He shook his head. "Not if the same templars are there." I groaned, realizing even if Cullen was moved odds are his partner wouldn't have been.

"Dragon's Peak?" he said.

"Maybe," I agreed. "And that's only if the templars can't tell we're mages the second we walk through the door."

Anders thought for a moment, but Nathaniel spoke up first. "Just wear normal armor and bring a group of people. Don't pretend to be peasants, just everyday Wardens. If there are other mages in the group it could throw them off. Have Jowan and Aidan there."

"Very devious," Anders said approvingly. "I'm impressed." Nathaniel gave him a nod and smirked at being the one who came up with the most workable solution.

Alistair and Elissa approached us not long after, Eamon accompanying them. "You spoke with the Grand Cleric?" Alistair said, looking upset. I nodded. "I feel like a complete jerk. I didn't expect her to do this. I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "Not your fault," I said. "We may have a solution."

He grinned. "I'm glad. Just… don't tell me until after. I don't want to deal with the Chantry howling at me." Alistair turned his attention to Anders. "And you'd better be good to her, or I'll… go all templar on you."

"Maker's breath, you threaten me if I don't ask, and now you threaten me again because I finally did? I think you just enjoy reminding me you can still summon a proper smite." Alistair laughed at that and squeezed Anders' shoulder in a friendly gesture. His threat hadn't been serious, of course.

We chatted for a while before the royal couple had to excuse themselves to continue their rounds of the crowd. Eamon stayed behind.

"Do you have a moment to speak?" he asked me. I nodded and followed him outside, shrugging at the others. He stopped in the hall, just beyond hearing distance of the guards. "About the memorial…" he began. I nodded, waiting. "Alistair and I both thought your request to be shown in robes and with a staff was reasonable. Honestly, I was pleased by it, for purely selfish reasons." I smiled at that. "I'm very much in favor of showing people a more positive view of mages."

"I can imagine," I said, smiling. His own son being a mage would certainly impact that. I briefly reflected on how lucky Connor was to be have parents that loved him enough not to let his talent drive them away.

"Well, we did revise the designs," he went on. "But the Grand Cleric has protested. She said she wouldn't dedicate a statue of a mage." I rolled my eyes, not shocked, and told him about the conversation I'd had with her earlier. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think you and I had very similar ideas," Eamon finally said. "I decided we would build it, and if she refuses to bless the statue I'll issue a statement explaining her grounds for refusal. 'The Chantry has sadly decided, once again, to place politics above the wellbeing of the people of Ferelden. They refuse to acknowledge the very woman who saved us from the blight itself simply because of their hatred of mages,'" he smiled at the thought. "I think Alistair wants to say something about how saddened he is personally about the Grand Cleric refusing to perform your wedding, as well."

"She's afraid people will call for a split from Val Royeaux," I said. "That's what she said when I told her I'd go elsewhere and tell everyone who would listen why I did."

"They already are," Eamon confirmed. "More every day. We've been inundated with letters. Not just people who have lost children to the Circle, either. Plenty of them tell us how they've never even met a mage and simply find it wrong. Quite a few who wanted the same thing after the occupation ended are speaking up again, too. Val Royeaux will always care for Val Royeaux first, why should we turn to a foreign authority when Andraste was born in Ferelden, things like that." I had to admit, I could never understand how something like that happened. Andraste was born in Denerim itself, why the Chantry didn't establish their center of authority there made no sense. "I had a question for you, though… and this goes _no further_ than us. Please don't share it with anyone beyond your closest advisers, people you would trust with your very life." Oh, now that got my attention. "Alistair and I have been preparing… should the demands become overwhelming. I don't know what we should do with mages, though. It seems obvious _some_ training is necessary, but…"

"Right," I said. "Well… should this happen," I said carefully, keeping my voice down and making sure the guards weren't paying attention, "I would close the tower. Or turn it into a center for advanced studies, studies undertaken voluntarily. It's a horrible place. Oppressive and dark. It _feels_ like a prison."

"Isolde has said the same thing," Eamon said. "I noticed it as well when I last visited. The air itself feels heavy." I nodded.

"I would say establish small schools, all over the country. Everyone lives close to a Chantry, maybe build a school onto each of them for young children just so they can learn the basics. That's all we learned as children. How to control our powers and resist demons, things like that, but nothing complex." He nodded, listening. "And then, perhaps, smaller circles. Highever, Gwaren, the major Arlings, and several in the banneron? Spread out throughout the country, so older children who do need intensive study can go there, but their families are still close enough to visit, and they can go home for breaks and holidays? Make it more like studying at a university or squiring for someone than sent to prison."

He looked surprised. "Is this something you've been thinking about? That's a fairly detailed plan. It does seem to be a reasonable alternative to the current system, though."

"That's basically how it works in the Imperium," I said. "If it didn't and they were plagued with abominations I'm sure the practice wouldn't have lasted hundreds of years."

"True enough," he said. "Although I wouldn't necessarily tell people that is where the idea came from." I chuckled at that. "But at this point it is a purely academic discussion. I was simply wondering if you thought it was possible to abolish the Circle as it stands now without putting the nation at risk."

"Absolutely," I said. "If anything it could make Ferelden _more_ secure. How many turn to blood magic simply to avoid the Circle? I think many mages turn on society because they've always been made to feel like they're not welcome in it. If that hostility was gone, and mages were all treated just like everyone else a lot of the anger would dissipate." I paused then. "You know, barring the occasional Exalted March."

"Yes, barring that," Eamon replied dryly. "Although I suspect the Chantry wouldn't really dare."

"Really?" I said dubiously.

"You do know why they stopped attacking the Black Divine in Tevinter, don't you?" Eamon said, eyebrows raised.

"I assumed it was… well, I really don't know, to be honest" I said finally. "Leaving them to the Quinari?"

"Not at all," he said. "It's because every time they tried the mages of the Imperium army would wipe out entire battalions of templars with those large area spells before they even came close enough to counteract their magic. Once that was done the regular troops just… swept in and cleaned everything up." That made sense. No wonder it wasn't taught in any of my history classes. "If even _half_ the mages and older apprentices in Ferelden fought with us the Chantry wouldn't stand a chance. _That_ is why I want this to happen. When a call for mages was sent out at Ostagar the Chantry only allowed _seven_. Imagine if we had fifty. Or a hundred!" He shook his head. "If we can train the next generation to believe that "magic exists to serve man" means the highest calling they can aspire to as a mage is to be a healer or soldier for their nation… Ferelden would be an unstoppable force. No one would be able to invade us again." He pounded a fist into his open palm. "The Chantry keeps the most powerful weapon in Ferelden under lock and key, even from the King himself. Today Alistair asked the Grand Cleric if he or I could speak at the circle about recruiting more mages for the army and was _turned down!_ They don't want to 'give' us any more mages, she said! That is _completely_ unacceptable. He is enraged, of course, and hiding it well because of the crowd. These are citizens of Ferelden, but the Chantry uses them as little more than personal slaves, lending out a handful here and there when it suits them."

"Is invasion a risk?" I asked, wondering if he was simply obsessing about the old war with Orlais again. I couldn't argue his point about slaves, I'd always thought the same thing. After all, even the highly-paid healers for noble families saw nothing for their efforts. The money all flowed back to the Circle and Chantry.

"It is _always_ a risk," Eamon said sadly. "You don't even want to _know_ how many plots against Alistair there have been in the last four years." I gasped at that. It did make sense, of course, that the king would be a target. Realistically I knew all kings were. But to know how frequently it happened made me nervous, both for a war and for the safety of my friend. "Orlesian, of course, but also from Nevarra, Antiva… anyone who thinks we would be a weak and easy target. We don't have wealth, but we have land, some of the most fertile land in Thedas. To an overcrowded nation like Antiva or a barren one like Nevarra that's very attractive." He shook his head. "Kill the king and sweep in to take over during the chaos," Eamon said. "I think the only reason it didn't happen when Cailin died was because of the combined fear of Loghain and his reputation and that they didn't want to fight the blight as well." Eamon glanced around. People were starting to trickle out of the landsmeet chamber. "If this is discovered before we're ready, though, it would be a disaster. The king and queen would have a price on their heads. I ask that you exercise discretion until the time comes."

I nodded in agreement and we went back inside.

I barely paid attention to my friends talking and laughing around me, running back and forth through the conversation with Eamon. He told me he was preparing should the people of Ferelden rise up and demand a split from the Chantry. However, his plan didn't sound like that. It sounded like Eamon and Alistair were planning to orchestrate a split themselves. More than that, his comments about the statue sounded like they planned to use the popular opinions about _me_ to get the public on their side.

To think, for several hours I blissfully assumed giving up three quarters of our land would help get me out of politics.

Well, at least no one had tried to kill us today.

* * *

_Not even sure why I bothered updating when this site is so terribly terribly broken right now. Hopefully this will actually post and people can read it. I'll also put a link in my profile to where I have it mirrored since it seems like the technical glitches here are getting worse, not better._


	53. Are they working with the templars now?

We left Denerim the next morning. The trip home was far less chaotic thanks to six of us remaining in the capital. I spent the first night on the road pacing, trying to decide what to do about Eamon's revelation. Everyone could tell something was bothering me but only Anders approached.

"Is this about the wedding?" he asked in our tent that evening.

"No," I said. "Well, maybe a bit, but not like that." He looked at me, obviously waiting for more details. "I think Alistair and Eamon want to split the Ferelden Chantry from Val Royeaux," I said in a low voice. I told him about my discussion with Eamon and my suspicions.

He was quiet for a moment, considering that. "Would we, as Wardens, support that?" he finally asked.

"I think so," I said. "It would be better for us if mages had more freedom." I sighed. "I don't know. I'm going to write to the First Warden when we get home and see what he says. I have some information on the old Warden encryption; that should make it secure enough to send in a letter." From what I knew few Wardens used, or even knew, the coded language. We had documentation on it I'd retrieved from the Peak since it dated back hundreds of years, to before it had died out. If anyone in the order knew it, though, I would have to hope it was the First Warden.

"If he says to stay out of it?"

"Then we will," I said. "I won't like it, but I'll do it. We may be mages and Fereldans, but before all that we're Wardens." He nodded in agreement. "So… what do you think?"

Anders shrugged. "You can't believe everything Eamon says," he said finally. "The man's a politician, and a _very good _one at that. He knows what to say to get people on his side, particularly you since he knows you so well." I started to protest but cut myself off, realizing Anders was right. "I have trouble believing the Chancellor is willing to risk an Exalted March just to free the mages, even if his son is one of us." I nodded with growing agreement. "He puts Ferelden first, even at the expense of his son. And he should, after all. I think I think the Grand Cleric… made a mistake. If she had allowed them to recruit mages for the Ferelden army I doubt we'd even be having this conversation. It wouldn't surprise me if he _was_ making plans in case of massive public demand, since he's a politician and that's what they _do,_ but her refusing the king made the issue personal."

"It was her way of claiming Chantry authority superseded the Crown," I said, realizing his point. Anders nodded. "I think she phrased it poorly, though, too. Saying she wouldn't 'give' them any more mages… it makes it seem like she's talking about lending a cup of sugar, not _people_. Alistair wanted to entice people to join the army, not force them. I can see _him_ getting very upset by her attitude."

"Well, it _is_ slavery," Anders said. "The Tranquil are the worst of all. They don't even have the ability to _want_ more for themselves."

"I agree," I said. "But Alistair always told me I was exaggerating things. I think her wording may have struck a chord. Maybe between that and remembering what I've said he understands it now." I shrugged.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But I wouldn't kid yourself," Anders said finally. "It all comes down to Eamon and Alistair wanting mages for the army, and the Chantry not wanting the mages to get out and use their powers. If what he said about Tevinter is accurate… well, maybe it's because they know even their own forces couldn't defeat an army with so many of us among them." He shrugged. "It will free us, but only so mages can now spend every day hearing about how glorious it is to fight for their nation, instead of how cursed they are. Still better than what goes on now, but it isn't exactly altruistic. I think he sees the Chantry as acting against the best interests of Ferelden security. He wants his army of battlemages and healers, it doesn't _really_ have much, or anything, to do with us poor oppressed bastards," Anders finally said with an indifferent shrug.

I thought much the same after replaying the conversation several time in my mind. I'd believed in Eamon's horror and indignation about mages being treated as chattel, but I think that was as much for my benefit as anything. Certainly it would have a side effect of improving life for mages, but the comment about training people from childhood on to want to join the military wasn't lost on me. At least I knew, even if they engrained the idea into everyone from childhood neither he nor Alistair would ever _force_ anyone to join. I suspect a Ferelden-based Chantry would most likely have a very different view on the use of templars as well, thanks to Alistair. Perhaps they actually _would _exist to protect mages from the world, not the world from mages. I highly doubted he would encourage or support lyrium addiction, either. In all, I couldn't see a downside beyond the repercussions from Val Royeaux, even if the way Eamon presented it to me was less than forthright.

"You know," Anders said eventually, "I'm half-tempted to see if Revered Mother Moira will perform the ceremony, and invite all of Ferelden to rub it in the Grand Cleric's face."

"That'll cause some problems for her," I said.

He shrugged. "Or leave her in a very powerful position once Eamon's plan goes through." He did have a point with that. Not that either of us knew her well enough to know if she would even have interest in such a thing, though. I think that might be the one way I could be enticed into dealing with an enormous formal ceremony.

I told the others the next night. All the senior Wardens were with us, and I trusted Rose and Roland as much as any of them. The only other person left was Felsi, and I knew she had no love for the Chantry. "I wonder what they will call our Divine," Nathaniel mused. "Black is taken for the Tevinter Chantry. Grey, perhaps? That seems… oddly fitting."

"Doesn't it?" I said. "I suppose we'll wait and see what Weisshaupt tells us to do. If they don't reply and something happens I think we should side with the Crown. It's in the best interests of the Wardens not to have to worry about the Chantry anymore. This Grand Cleric may realize she won't win against us, but the next might not be so smart. And in once we're all gone and the blight is a memory of stories told by parents and grandparents who knows what they'll do."

Everyone thought about that. "Aye," Oghren finally said. "We need mages. How many times over would all of us be dead without Anders?" I saw Anders look over in surprise. Oghren rarely complimented him so openly, and using his real name was even more unusual. Clearly he was taking this very seriously. "We might survive without battlemages," Oghren went on, "no offense Maggie." I shrugged, understanding what he meant. "But without healers? Heh, fat chance of that."

There was a round of agreeing voices. "It's nice to know I'm appreciated," Anders quipped with a smile. "Let me tell you, keeping all of your insides on the inside hasn't been easy."

"Keep your robes on," Oghren said with a grin. "Don't need you going crazy over here. Just being honest."

We made it home the next evening. Jowan, looking exhausted, stepped outside to greet us, holding his own daughter with Oghren's girl dancing around his feet and tugging at his belt and robes. "How is it two little girls are more tiring than fighting darkspawn?" he asked, gladly relinquishing the older girl to Felsi, who thanked him for watching her. "I have big news," I whispered to him. "Come find Anders and I in a bit."

He nodded. "Nora's taking a nap, she's even more worn out than me. When she's up I'll come by your rooms." He caught a glimpse of my hand and grinned. "So he finally asked you?" I nodded. "About damn time," Jowan laughed. "Oh, and go find Aidan or Ronan, they have word from the city. It's… hm… it's strange, I'll say that much." Nathaniel and I exchanged a glance. Anders took my bag, laughing and telling me to go get to work. The two of us headed into the office directly, seeing Tobias, Mal, Ronan and Aidan all gathered around the desk talking nervously, Varel pacing the room nearby.

"Thank the Maker you're back," Aidan said as soon as he saw us.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly.

"There have been riots in the city for the last three days straight," he said.

Nathaniel and I exchanged a glance as we sunk into our chairs. "This isn't good," he said.

"Tell me," I ordered.

"You've heard about the mage riots, right?" Aidan said. We both nodded. "Well, all those families that got away with their children? _Guess _where they are?"

"Oh Maker," I muttered. Whatever the answer, I knew it wouldn't be good. "Where?"

"Sodding Chantry of our Lady sodding Redeemer," Aidan said, sounding shocked. "_That's_ where. The Revered Mother is taking in people left and right offering them sanctuary! She's gone off her rocker!" He shook his head. "Not that I don't adore her for it, but… well, half the templars in the north of Ferelden seem to have converged on the city and they're ripping it apart brick by brick."

"Wait…" I said, confused. "They're attacking the _city_, not the Chantry? _Templars_ are the rioters?"

"Yes and yes," he said. "Tobias and Mal went in to get a better idea of what's going on."

"Good call," I said, proud they'd thought of it. "What did you figure out?"

"The Chantry… it has templars of their own," Mal said. "I counted twenty on the outside alone, who knows how many inside. They seem to be loyal to this priest and her cause. I believe the others, the troublemakers… they don't wish to fight their brothers, or perhaps they are no match. But, they want to fight _something_, so they take out their anger on the city." He looked away from me slightly. "I heard several who were smashing windows talking about how they should 'destroy the maleficar whore's city.' Sorry."

I shrugged. "Don't apologize, you're just repeating what they said. Not the first time I've been called that, either."

"They seem to think everyone's involved with the Revered Mother," Tobias added. "I got close enough to listen in a bit. Some of the Chantry-templars were talking about lyrium, something about not needing it anymore because of the Revered Mother. It seemed important at the time. From what Ronan said I'd guess it is pretty big." I gasped. If the Revered Mother had found a way to help them break their addiction that would certainly earn loyalty. Anders had spent months helping wean Ronan off the stuff, and it wasn't easy for him. He was only now starting to look healthy again instead of ashen-faced and sweaty all the time. "The others, well they're nuts. They all seem to think the entire city is wicked. Because of this, because of you, because of the Wardens in general. Pick any reason you want. They go against the templars at the Chantry and get cut down or pushed back, so they turn on anything else within sight."

"Have you done anything so far?" I asked. They shook their heads.

"We tried on the first day," Ronan said. "Not Wardens since we didn't know if the order should be involved. Guards, here and from the city. The templars ripped through them like they were children playing war."

"We don't have enough men to stomp this out," Varel said.

"How many are there?"

"One hundred perhaps?" Mal estimated. I shuddered.

"I think they're all starting to go through withdrawal," Ronan added. "They _might_ listen to you, you're the Arlessa and all, but they might as soon attack. I don't know."

"Bann," I said. They looked confused so I told them what happened in Denerim. "So now I'm the Bann of Griffin Coast, not the Arlessa of Amaranthine," I finally summarized.

They congratulated Nathaniel and he smiled. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going anywhere. I didn't realize how much I _loathed_ being a part of the nobility until I wasn't any longer. My nephew will be the Arl, and my sister his regent for now. I'm happy my family are no longer pariahs, but I have _no_ interest in jumping back into politics." He sighed. "Beyond the politics that keep falling on us, at least."

I put my head in my hands, elbows on my knees, and sighed, trying to think of a plan. "Well, we have two options," I said to the floor, thinking aloud. "Take care of this ourselves, or send for help. I don't like the idea of going in with a group of Wardens to crush the templars, but I like waiting for a rider to get to Denerim, inform the king, and wait for his troops to arrive even less. Who knows how much damage they'll cause in the meantime." I looked up. "They're not targeting civilians, are they?"

Mal nodded. "I saw a woman attacked… I think those vows of chastity are not as sincere as they may want us to believe. I managed to get him with an arrow without revealing my position, though, so she got away."

"Good," I said. "Is everyone aware of what's going on?" I asked. Varel nodded. "Get everyone in the main hall, then." They walked out quickly, splitting in different directions as soon as they left the office. Varel, Nathaniel and I were left alone.

"What is your plan?" Nathaniel asked.

"We have to stop them," I said. "They're attacking civilians. If it was just damage I'd wait for reinforcements from Denerim, but not when these lyrium-addled madmen are all but raping women in the streets. I'll take volunteers and lead a group in."

"I'm with you," he said quickly. "It'll put us in the middle of the whole controversy, but we can't let them hurt people like this. They count on us to keep them safe." He stood up. "I'm going to talk to my sister, I'll meet you in the main hall."

Varel and I were alone in the office. "I can't help but wonder," he said. "This was timed to occur just as you left Denerim. If it was sooner word would have reached you."

"You think it was intentional?" I asked. "So we wouldn't be here and no one could warn us?"

"Perhaps," he said. I told him about the conversation with the Grand Cleric.

"About time the mage gave you a ring," he said. "Of course, for all the good it will do now…"

I shrugged. "I get the impression Revered Mother Moira wouldn't have a problem performing the ceremony."

He chuckled at that. "Perhaps not."

I groaned, not wanting to deal with the templars. "Who is our fastest rider?" I asked him.

"Arthur," he said, "definitely him."

"And among the mages?"

Varel snorted. "Jowan, perhaps, although I wouldn't call him _fast_. Dermott's getting better, he's been working with Arthur." Oh, no surprise there.

"All right," I sighed. "Can you find Arthur and Dermott and bring them here?" He left, returning after a moment with both men. I could see a small crowd gathering in the main hall when the door opened.

"You can do a haste spell, right?" I said to Dermott.

"When I was _nine_," he replied.

"Good," I said. The only other Wardens with that skill were Anders and Jowan. I needed Anders with us in the city for healing, and Jowan was a bad fit for this assignment for so many reasons.

I quickly told them what was going on, most of which they knew. "I need both of you to ride to Denerim and inform the King. You're going to be casting haste and rejuvenate the whole way. Stop as little as you can. Hopefully with the spells you can make it by nightfall tomorrow with a break to sleep and shorter ones to eat."

I quickly scratched out a note for Alistair or Eamon.

_ Revered Mother in Amaranthine City has been granting sanctuary to families of mage children. She has a small force of templars protecting her. I believe she helped them break their addiction, earning their loyalty. The Chantry has launched a full attack on the city, started three nights ago. Opposing templars have fallen on the city. They are attacking civilians and bystanders. One scout stopped a templar from forcing himself on a woman right in the street. They ripped through the guard force that was sent. No one else can do it, have to take the Wardens in now, will try to capture many alive. Send help and reinforcements NOW. Wardens Arthur and Dermott have my complete trust, you can count on them._

_Warden Commander Margaret_

Varel read over my shoulder. "Is this an attack by the _Chantry_, though?" he said.

I shrugged. "Might as well be, it's their men. Eamon and Alistair would almost be happier if it was." He raised an eyebrow at that and I only muttered "later." I let both men read the letter in case something happened to it and they needed to relay the message verbally before grabbing a stick of blue wax from the desk. Folding the letter I melted the wax with a flame from my fingertip and slammed my commander signet ring into the puddle. The dual griffin imprint looked back at me. I cooled it with a mild frost spell and handed it over. "This is for King Alistair, Queen Elissa, or Chancellor Eamon _only_, no one else. If someone tries to take it from you… you're authorized to use force." They both nodded. "Right, go get your gear and head out. Wear something official so no one at the palace questions you. That's my seal, so if they ask you can show them and that should be enough to prove it's from me. Alistair knows my writing, too. Maker watch over you."

"Maker watch over all of us," Dermott replied, glancing back at the nervous crowd. Arthur repeated the sentiment and they headed out quickly.

"One more thing," I said, grabbing a sheath of papers from the desk when Varel and I were alone again. "Do you know the old Warden cipher?"

"I do," he confirmed. "Kristoff taught it to me. When he was, um, still Kristoff." I nodded in understanding. I'd never known the temporary commander, only the spirit Justice that had inhabited his body later on.

"Good," I said. "Close the door." He did and sat back down. I slid the paper and pen over to him. "Let me know if I go too fast," I said before I began to dictate what Eamon had told me of their plans and what I suspected of his true plan and motivation. Varel froze several times, jaw hanging open, as I spoke. I paused and waited for him to recover before going on. I also explained the division of the Arling, my new title, and the current crisis. Finally, I had him add "_Should something occur before I receive a response from you I will be siding with the Crown, against the Chantry of Val Royeaux. They have caused me no end of grief and frustration, even with my personal popularity and the high status of Wardens in Ferelden at the moment. I fear what they may do to the mages within our ranks in the future, when the blight is a memory and I am long gone. I also feel our standing in the nation will be served by siding with the King, leaving us in a position to ensure future cooperation between the monarchy and the Wardens. Should you wish us to remain neutral please respond with haste as things are quickly coming to a head."_

Varel's hand was shaking when he set down the pen and passed the letter to me. I glanced at it, although I don't even know why I bothered since it looked like nothing more than swirls and gibberish. Signed and folded, I once again repeated the process of sealing the letter with my signet before slipping it into my pocket.

"I'll have this mailed when I'm in the city," I said. "Hopefully a ship will be ready to leave once the chaos is over."

"So… this is how it begins," Varel mused. "They'll call an Exalted March on Ferelden, you know." I told him what Eamon had said about the failures against the Tevinter armies. "Hm… That may work." He sighed and looked distant. "I must say, having a Chantry based in the city of Andraste's birth strikes me as a good idea. Why we answer to Val Royeaux at all when the Maker spoke to a woman from Ferelden has never made sense to me."

I nodded in agreement. "The Grand Cleric basically told me she would love to eliminate every mage in the Wardens, only my popularity with the people of Ferelden keeps her from trying."

"So years in the future, when you're gone…"

"Exactly. I see this as securing the future for the order. We _can't_ work without mages. Without healers we would all be dead a hundred times over." I sighed and stood up. "Best get this over with so we can head out."

I went into the main hall where everyone had gathered. "I'm sure you all know what's happened by now," I said. There was a murmur of agreement and nods. "The Chantry has attacked Amaranthine. Although it isn't a Warden concern, since we control the land we are responsible for their safety. Two fast riders, using magic to go faster, have already been sent to Denerim for reinforcements, but in the meantime I need volunteers help to retake the city." I didn't wait for comments. "From what we know, there are at least a hundred templars currently assaulting civilians. We will be outnumbered. This won't be easy, and I want to take as many alive as I can. If you want to help gear up and meet me by the stables."

I looked over at Varel. "Anyone who doesn't come needs to get in gear and patrol near the gates. I don't want the Keep attacked while we're gone." He nodded and I bolted up the stairs.

Anders was already getting into his armored robes. I quickly shed my robes and began buckling my own armor. "Lyrium?" I asked him. He nodded towards the bed, a pile of what looked like two dozen bottles sat out. Both Isolde and Ser Barks ran around our legs, excited to realize they would be going with us.

"You know what's going to happen with this, right?" Anders said, eyebrow raised. I raised an arm and he helped me buckle my armor. "Eamon will play it like the Chantry attacked a Ferelden city."

"They aren't?" I said.

He shrugged. "I think its some templars acting on their own. Their orders were probably to take care of the situation with the mages, not attack the city proper. They're taking out frustration on the innocent bystanders." Anders began loading his pockets with lyrium, poultices, and potions. "This won't be easy. If we get hit by a smite…"

"I know," I said. "You know, I was _so excited_ that I could get out of politics when they knocked me down to Bann."

"How does that work exactly?" he said.

I shrugged. "They never named someone to replace Esmerelle when she died, so I guess that I'm Bann of the city and surrounding area now." I sat on the edge of the bed and fell back. "I can't believe this mess. We may go to war, you know? _We_ may go, not just Ferelden."

"So it seems," he said. Anders sighed and sat next to me. "What do you think the First Warden will say?"

I shrugged. "Who knows. I told him if he doesn't respond we stand with the crown. I think that will give us more long-term security. You know, once people forget the blight, forget us, and the Wardens are just seen as another outdated order that harbors apostates."

Anders sighed. "You're probably right. I can't even guess what Weisshaupt will say. If they reply at all, that is."

I laughed at that. "Let's go," I said finally. Anders nodded and we headed downstairs.

Every Warden who was at home seemed to be milling around outside the stable. The sound of dogs barking was almost deafening. Rose walked over to us, Ronan and Roland behind her. "Should some of us stay behind?" she asked me. "What if they have someone watching to attack once every Warden is gone?"

"You read my mind," I told her. "Want to lead the defense here?" She nodded, smiling. I noticed Roland looking at her with pride. I also couldn't help but notice they were both wearing plain gold rings. I suppose the idea of annulment had been discarded. "Keep ten people to back you up. I'll let you pick."

"Anders," she said quickly before bursting out laughing. "Sorry, I was kidding. I just… wow, the look on your face." She shook her head. "Nah, I'll see if Moira will stay behind. She's a good healer, but Aidan and Anders are better, you'll need them more." She paused for a moment and her face darkened. "Well, I _hope_ you will, at least." Once she picked her team and managed to convince all of them it was actually a special assignment so they'd stop complaining about being kept from the fight I got everyone else onto horses and we set off. We had more than thirty Wardens with us. I had to admit, with the templars outnumbering us three to one I still put the odds in our favor.

We were ambushed an hour outside the city by a small band of darkspawn. Considering we outnumbered them four to one and had the seven beasts cut down by the dogs, archers and mages without anyone even having to dismount I couldn't help but laugh. "Are _they_ working with the templars now, too?"

"Hm, could be," Anders said, hopping down. "Besides Ronan and our dear King I can't say I've ever been impressed with the intelligence of many templars." I joined him on the road and we pulled the bodies to the shoulder before casting a fire spell.

"That should do it," I said once I was sure the fire wouldn't go out before the bodies were destroyed. I hopped back into the saddle and glanced back at everyone. "Try and take them alive," I warned. I had the keys to the jail in the city from Varel, we could lock them up and leave them for the king to handle.

Seeing the city in the distance I was reminded of the last time we rode here to fight. That time there were only four of us, and I think we all expected not to see home again. The smoke had hung in the air, and the darkspawn nearby had been enough to make me want to rip my own hair out to quiet the screaming in my mind. This time I was backed by almost three dozen of Ferelden's best warriors. The contrast seemed even stranger when I noticed how very _quiet_ the city seemed. Darkspawn would be preferable to this, at least then we'd know what to expect.

A pale face glanced out from behind a window on one of the small homes at the outskirts of town. It disappeared as quickly but the door was flung open before long. "Thank the Maker," a middle aged woman shouted, running towards us. Three small faces watched her from the window. "They've gone _mad_. You have to stop them!"

"Don't worry," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "That's why we're here, and I've already sent word to Denerim so the king can provide reinforcements."

She all but collapsed with relief. "They burst in, took all our food, trampled our fields. I thought templars were supposed to _help_ people!"

"Not these ones, apparently," Anders replied drily. He glanced over at her house. The field was barren and destroyed. "Would you allow us to leave our horses in your field, my lady?" he asked her, voice dripping with courtly flattery.

"Oh, of course, Ser," she responded quickly, blushing slightly. "Anything we can do to help the Wardens."

"Thank you," I said, guiding Griffin over to the fence. I dismounted once he managed the jump and patted his flank reassuringly.

"We're loyal people here," the woman went on. "We all know the Grey Wardens are heroes. I watched you stop the darkspawn attacking the city." She wasn't done speaking, apparently thrilled to have someone to listen to her. I smiled and nodded while everyone else maneuvered their horses into the field. "My husband and me, we were hiding inside, them beasts was everywhere spreading their filth in the streets. I thought that would be the end of us. Just gave up and then I saw you, my lady, running in and cutting them down with your lightning. I won't never forget that, it was like you had the Maker himself on your side. We won't let any templars change our minds about the Wardens, no ser. Every night I have the little ones pray 'Maker bless King Alistair and Maker bless the Grey Wardens.' We're _loyal._" I thanked her again and extracted myself from the conversation after making sure she would go back inside until it was safe.

"Ready?" I asked them. Everyone unsheathed their blades and nodded. I turned and led us into the city proper, wondering if this was only the beginning of a much larger problem.

* * *

_A/N A quick update since tomorrow's my birthday and I suspect I'll be too busy to get to this before the weekend as a result. :D Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm glad people were still able to read even with the horrid site glitching.  
_


	54. Repression is a dangerous thing

**Fair warning: Bits of this chapter are fairly dark and potentially triggering.**

* * *

When we reached the gates I split everyone into groups, making sure each had a healer with them. Unlocking the small jail outside the walls I retrieved the keys from the large desk, making sure they were for the cells. I passed every group a key. "Remember, alive if possible."

"You're not planning to hang them anyways?" Sigrun asked.

"Oh, I am," I said. "Or the ones who deserve it, at least. Just… I'd rather do that. Make it public, let everyone know what they did."

"You're not allowed to talk to Chancellor Eamon anymore," Anders said, eyebrows raised. "That's devious."

"Better everyone thinks the Grey Wardens slaughtered a score of the Chantry's holy knights, or that they hear about how they were attacking the innocent and rioting in a major city?"

"All right," he relented. "You have a point."

I sent everyone off, assigning them different areas of the city. Anders and I led our small team, which was basically us and Mal, towards the Chantry itself. Hopefully I would be able to get word to the Revered Mother that help was here. I heard someone curse as we passed through the market district and saw a flash of light reflecting off metal as someone darted behind a market stall. Anders raised a hand and cast a sleep spell, there was a dull thud not long after. The spell hit him so quickly he couldn't dispel the magic. We walked behind the building and saw a templar, pockets bulging with items looted from the market.

"Truss him for now," Anders said. Mal darted forward and tied the templar up. Glancing around, I saw an abandoned cart. Dragging it over, I unceremoniously dumped the sleeping templar into it. Anders and I pushed it, letting Mal walk ahead of us to keep an eye out for more of them. We were able to put two more to sleep and bind them in the wagon, but the next pair we found attacked us before I we could summon a spell. Mal managed to take one down with a blade to his calves, causing him to fall. The dogs killed the other when he began to summon a smite against us. We would have been worse than useless for the rest of the day if he hadn't been stopped, though, so I bent over and praised Isolde, sending her tail wagging. After tying up the injured templar Anders healed him and put him in the wagon.

"Should we put him to sleep?" Mal asked. "Will he be able to harm your magic?"

I shook my head. "Not with his hands tied." He began spitting curses and profanity at us. "Gag him, though. Don't want my temper to get the best of me." I looked over my shoulder and glared at him, enjoying the look of fear that passed over his features. "Really," I said to the man as we went on. "_Looting_? Is that what the Chantry has been reduced to? Sending their _brave_ warriors to steal from the humble shopkeepers of Amaranthine?" I bent into the wagon and dug through his pockets. "A _snowglobe_?" I said with surprise. "You stole a _snowglobe?_" I shook the object, sending tiny flakes all over the miniature figure inside. Looking closer I started laughing.

"What?" Anders asked.

I showed it to him. "That's _you!_" he said, surprised.

I nodded. "Didn't think any of these were still around. Someone made them just after the blight. I've got the whole set at home in a box somewhere." There had been mine, as well as similar ones of Alistair and Loghain, and then a big one with our entire group in it. Someone must have gone by descriptions for most of our companions, though. While Zevran, Alistair, Loghain and I all looked fairly true to life, everyone who left the capital was slightly off. Wynne's grey hair was brown streaked with grey, Sten looked to be nothing more than a very tall human, and Leliana had somehow become an elf. I glanced over at the templar, who was watching the falling snow as if enraptured. "I just have to know," I muttered, reaching over and pulling off his gag. "_Why_ did you steal a snowglobe of _me?_"

He tore his eyes from it after a moment. "Shiny," he said finally. "Pretty." It seemed Tobias's theory of lyrium withdrawal wasn't far from the truth. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to laugh. "Pretty," the templar said again before attempting to lunge at me.

"Woah," I said, darting back. All three of the dogs began barking threateningly. Thankfully Mal had him tied tightly enough that he only managed to topple over face first. He was now struggling and snarling, trying to climb out of the wagon while looking up at me.

"Hey!" Anders said, glaring at the man before righting him and replacing his gag. "None of that," Anders said, glaring at him. "Not yours," he said, pointing at me. "Mine, not yours." I rolled my eyes, Anders caught that and shrugged with a grin. He quickly put the man to sleep and shook his head before walking on. "Damned lyrium addiction," he muttered. I shuddered looking at the man.

I glanced over at Anders. "Would I…"

"No," he said quickly. "Ronan told me how much they take. The amount they give templars is actually a lot higher than I suspected. You might feel a bit sick and look pasty and sweaty like he did for a while, but nothing like _that_." I sighed with relief. "They take more in an average day than we do in battle." _Poor bastards,_ I thought to myself.

Continuing on we went several blocks without any sign of life, templar or otherwise, beyond the occasional pale face peeking out a window at us. I heard a woman scream and followed the sound to an alley behind the Crown and Lion inn. Peeking around the edge of the building I noticed two things. The first was a young woman shoved against a wall, beating with both fists against a templar who was trying to wrestle her skirt up. The second was Sigrun's pale eyes looking around the corner of the building from the other side. The templar was too focused on his assault to take note of either of us. I gestured a drawing bow to her and she nodded, slipping out of sight. I moved back and allowed Mal to take my place. The templar howled in pain, looking down in confusion at the arrows jutting from his thigh and shoulder. I caught a glimpse of Nathaniel shouldering his own bow as well. That distraction was enough for the woman, who broke free and ran towards us. "It's all right," I said as she drew back from the corner in a panic once she saw the three of us hidden there. "We're Grey Wardens, here to help. Will you let our healer take a look at you?" She nodded mutely and stood shaking while Anders checked her over.

"The bump on your head is the worst of it," he said in a steady, comforting voice. "I'd like to cast a spell to heal it now. It may tingle a little bit. Will that be all right? I don't want to do anything without your permission." She nodded and Anders took care of the injury. I cast him a grateful glance. I don't think it was possible for him to have handled that any better. Healing her without warning could have just spooked the poor woman even more after what she narrowly escaped.

"They're inside the inn," she said finally once Anders had taken care of some minor injuries she received fighting with the templar. "Almost all of them."

"Thank you," I said. "Can you get to safety?" She nodded before thanking us and running off.

We walked over to where Nathaniel and Sigrun were standing by the templar with Jowan. "Disgusting bastard," Nathaniel muttered before spitting on the man.

"Tie his arms," I said, walking over. "Hold him up." Nathaniel did and I walked to the man, summoning a small flame on the tip of one finger. I traced out the letter R on the breastplate of his armor, leaving a blackened mark where the fire touched him. Glad that magical fire burned hotter than the more traditional variety, I nodded with satisfaction once I was done. The metal was actually slightly melted, it wouldn't wipe off. "There," I said. "I'm sure he's not the only one, but we saw this for ourselves. Don't want him getting lost in the shuffle. The others will go to jail. He'll hang." Nathaniel dropped him to the ground.

The man glared up at me. "Whore," he muttered. Anders' foot darted out, connecting with him between his legs and causing him to double in pain.

"Understand this," I said quietly. "I'm a very reasonable woman. You're going to prison before you're hung. Were I less reasonable I would perform some back alley surgery here and now to make your last days exquisitely painful. Open your mouth again and I may become far more unreasonable." He continued to struggle against Nathaniel's booted foot holding him to the ground but didn't say anything else. Mal stepped past me and looked down at the man before stomping his foot down and twisting his heel. I noticed Anders, Jowan, and Nathaniel wince to see it.

"I am _not_ a reasonable man," he said coldly. "Only a coward forces himself on another." He stepped back and helped Nathaniel flip the now-green templar over, binding his hands and legs and gagging him. We added him to our wagon, although Jowan somehow managed to drop the man's head several times as we carried him over, slamming his face into the dirt.

"Oops," he said each time. "How clumsy of me." I caught his eye and we shared a grim smile.

"You've got quite the start," Nathaniel said, observing the half-dozen prisoners we had already collected.

"We've got information, too," I said. "The woman we saved told me the rest are inside the inn."

"Let's get these men locked up first," Nathaniel said. He, Anders, and Mal pushed the cart over to the jail, leaving the rest of us to watch the exits of the inn.

"Was she all right?" Jowan asked me.

I nodded. "Bump on the head, bruises on her arms, but nothing serious. We got here in time. She let Anders heal her."

"So…" he said after a moment. "War with the Chantry again?"

"Seems like it," I said. "The fun never ends." I absentmindedly scratched behind Isolde's ears. She rumbled appreciatively.

"I don't know why we can't just split off like Tevinter did," he mused. "Andraste's faith should be based in the city of her birth, anyways."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "You might just get what you wish for," I warned. His eyes widened. Since it was just the three of us and Sigrun already knew I whispered what I'd learned in Denerim.

"Maker's breath…" he muttered, looking shocked. "Is your life always this exciting?"

"Pretty much," Sigrun said with a laugh. "Are the Wardens all you dreamed of and more?"

"And more," Jowan laughed. "Most definitely the 'and more' bit." He shook his head. "Now I see why you never shared many of your stories about being a Warden when you came to visit me on the farm."

The others returned. "There were about thirty others already locked up," Anders announced, sounding understandably pleased. "I saw Oghren's group headed back with ten more, too." He walked around to the back door of the inn and raised a hand. "That should keep them from escaping out the back," he said after directing a flame at the lock, melting it closed.

The six of us walked to the front. I saw several faces look out the window and draw back quickly. "They know we're here," Jowan warned. "A spell would most likely be useless."

I nodded and opened the front door slowly. The regular bartender saw me and relief flashed across his face. We had apparently interrupted what was a very wild party up until recently. I almost laughed at the scene in front of me. Half the templars were unconscious, sleeping in puddles of beer. In one corner of the room a wild country dance, composed of nothing but templars, was taking place. The rest seemed content to try and drink the whole of the bartender's stock, with a few singing folk songs for good measure. Or hymns. The hymns were perhaps the most disturbing aspect.

"Party is over, gentlemen," I said. "Come peacefully and it will be better for you."

"Party!" one shouted, grabbing me by the arm and trying to dance. _Fantastic_, I thought to myself. I managed to pull my hands free and raised one, quickly freezing almost everyone in the room where they stood.

"Isn't this sweet," I muttered, looking at the frozen dancers.

"Repression is a dangerous thing," Anders said. "Aren't you glad we're not forced into celibacy?"

"Yes," Jowan, Sigrun, Nathaniel, Oghren and I said almost simultaneously. We all burst out laughing at that. Anders quickly cast a sleep spell so they wouldn't come at us when they defrosted and they set about tying everyone up while I spoke to the proprietor.

"Are there any more?" I asked him.

"Upstairs," the normally-cheerful dwarf replied. "Maybe twenty more all told. Disgusting beasts." I looked at him waiting for more information. "They've been forcing me to serve them, and every couple hours one will go out and bring a girl back kicking and screaming." He looked pale. "They said…"

"What did they say?" I asked gently.

"They said if people were going to be loyal to a maleficar they would treat them like maleficar. I'm sorry, Commander."

I waved off his apology. "Are _you_ all right?" I asked him. He nodded. "How long has all this been going on?"

"They got here two, three nights ago. When they couldn't get into the Chantry they started attacking everyone else. Said the whole city was guilty for covering it up, but they've been getting… stranger since then." He sighed and shrugged. "I can't see nothing wrong with parents protecting their children. Don't think anyone can fault a person for that. I've got a little girl of my own… if someone tried to take her…" he made a face at the idea. "You got little ones at home, Commander?" I shook my head.

"I do," Jowan interjected. "And the only way anyone's dragging my girl off is over my dead body."

The bartender nodded. "You're a parent. You understand. Those people at the church, they're just doing what any decent parent would do. _Of course_ no one in town said anything."

"One more question," I said. "Were all of them… going upstairs?" I raised my brows and hoped he understood what I was asking.

"No," he said. "These lads seemed happy just to drink me into poverty. The ones upstairs…" he made a face. "They're monsters. As bad as any darkspawn, I'd swear it on my ancestors." Sigrun made a violent sound of disgust. The bartender nodded in agreement.

"You may want to get out of here," I warned him.

"I'll lock myself in the back room. My wife and girl have been back there. They never found them, thank the stone." I nodded and waited for him to leave the room. "They secure?" I asked.

"Very," Nathaniel said. I looked over and saw the men were all tied up, and then tied back to back as well.

"The rope around the neck?" I asked, confused.

"It'll get tighter if they struggle," Sigrun said. "So they don't get any clever ideas about escaping."

Someone pushed the door to the inn open. I spun around, daggers drawn, lowering them when I saw Oghren's familiar face peek around the door. "Just us," he said, entering the inn followed by Aidan and Runi. "I think the city's clear. There's nearly fifty in the jail. Seems the boys were having themselves a regular party here." He made a face. "Found a few in the dressmaker's shop. Not sure why, but they were all decked out like the Queen herself. I wouldn't wear a helmet with a ballgown personally, but I'm not one for fashion." We all stared at him before snorting with laughter.

"There are more upstairs," I said after a moment, finding my laughter dead at the memory. I repeated the warning from the bartender.

"Might as well get to it," he said. I nodded and the nine of us slowly made our way to the second floor. I could hear shouts and hollers coming from the first bedroom door. Jowan held up a hand for us to wait and cast a spell. Several thudding noises came from the room, and then silence. I went in first and, after taking in the scene, nearly trampled Anders as I stepped back to get out.

"Blessed Andraste…" I heard someone mutter softly before I doubled over in the hall, violently ill. I stood and wiped my mouth. Anders left the room and brushed my hair back from my face. "We need to find an empty bedroom," he said softly. "Aidan, Jowan and I will need someplace clean to work on the girls." His jaw tensed. "It… may take some time."

"Right," I said, setting off down the hall. I couldn't hear anything else from this floor, but there had only been ten or so templars in that room. Another ten were still around here unaccounted for. Runi was leaning against a wall, skin waxy.

"I've never seen anything so horrible," she muttered. "Not in dust town, not with the darkspawn… what's _wrong_ with them?" I nodded grimly. There had been so much _blood_.

"Lyrium withdrawl," Anders said. "They're cruel bastards on a good day; that only makes it so much worse. They're completely severed from reality. Worse than animals."

She and I set off down the hall, poking our heads into another room until we found one with two large beds. "Here," I called to Anders, propping the door open.

"Can you help us move them?" he asked. "If they wake up… I think it would be better if they saw another woman right now." I nodded, gritting my teeth. Runi and I followed him back into the room. We each carefully lifted one of the women off the floor where they had been tossed aside. Both were naked, covered in more cuts, bloody bite marks, and bruises than I could even count. I couldn't imagine how much pain they had been in. Their faces were little more than swollen ruins, features all but unrecognizable.

I saw Oghren kick one of the templars across the room to get his unconscious body off another woman before he gently lifted her up, muttering something under his breath. It didn't take long for all of us to get the three women into the other room. "See what I mean about templars and women?" Jowan said. I nodded darkly.

"We're going to work on them," Anders said. "Can you tie the bastards up? I wouldn't normally suggest abusing prisoners but, well, I suggest abusing the prisoners. Severely."

I sighed, wishing I was a better healer. "Let me try helping you. I can do the minor injuries, and rejuvenate the three of you when you need it. If anyone gets lyrium addled better it's me than any of you."

"Good plan," he said. "It'll be easier if they don't wake up and find themselves alone with more strange men, anyways." I put Nathaniel and Oghren in charge of finding the remaining templars and locking the others up before the four of us retreated to the clean bedroom.

Sigrun poked her head in not long after we began work. "Found the others," she said before shoving a mattress through the door and setting it on the ground next to the bed. "More injured on their way down." I nodded and followed her upstairs. "Wardens out," I said quickly. The three of them stepped back to where Sigrun and I stood while I cast a quick sleep spell. It looked like most of the templars here didn't escape the fight unharmed. Not shocking since they weren't armed with much more than what the Maker gave them. "I don't know if the women can stand being moved while conscious," I said. They weren't _really_ conscious now, not in any tangible way, but a sleep spell was more certain.

"Good idea," Nathaniel said. He lifted one of them up, I took another and followed him down the stairs. We both laid our charges out on the beds. Oghren and Runi followed with two more women.

"Can you try and hunt down some clothing for them?" I asked Sigrun. We had them covered in the sheets but I didn't know what became of their clothes, and suspected nothing would be worth salvaging anyways.

"Sure," she said. I stood up and stepped outside, closing the door behind me. "Can you go to the Chantry, too? Let the guards know who you are and see if a priest can come here? If not the Revered Mother, than someone else?" I paused. "And see if anyone there has any healing skills. If so, let them know we'll need help."

"Is it that bad?" she asked.

I nodded. "I don't know if one will make it. They really…" I covered my mouth, feeling the urge to get ill once more. She put a hand on my arm and nodded.

"I'm on it," Sigrun said. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Nate and Oghren are bringing the bastards over to the jail right now. They'll be locked separately, with the guy we found behind the building."

I thanked her and returned to the room, grabbing a rag and a bucket of fresh warm water and soap. While the healers worked on the worst injuries I set about cleaning off the women as best I could and patching them up with poultices, using the occasional spell in areas where a scar wouldn't be obvious. "Maggie," Jowan called. I noticed him starting to sag with exhaustion. The woman in front of him was starting to look healthy once more, though. Her face, while bruised, no longer resembled a bloody pulp. Covering the latest victims with a sheet I walked over and held a hand to his forehead, transferring some of my own energy to him. I moved on to Aidan and Anders next without waiting for them to ask.

"Move on once they're stable," I cautioned. "Don't try for complete recovery, there are too many hurt for that. Just make sure they'll live, and you can go back after for the smaller stuff."

I wasn't sure how long we'd been working before there was a knock at the door. Opening it a crack I saw Sigrun, the Revered Mother behind her. She had a teenage boy and girl with her, both looking nervous and excited, and two templars. Sigrun handed me a large sack of clothing.

"I'm so glad to see you, Commander," she said, sounding relieved. "This has been a _nightmare_." I slipped out the door and closed it behind me.

"What happened here?" I asked her plainly. "I just returned from the king's wedding and found out the city was in chaos."

"A family came to me, they didn't want their son taken from them. I…" she blushed. "I remembered the day I met you and the Warden Anders, outside the Chantry. I admit, I had been listening in to your conversation before I approached you. I couldn't let a child get pulled from their family knowing how much it still pained you, years later. So, I took them in. Soon, another family arrived. And then another… and I suppose it snowballed from there." She sighed. "I suspect I'll be defrocked for this, but I couldn't sit by and do _nothing_." Her face hardened slightly. "Andraste fought the magisters of tevinter, she fought _slavery_, she didn't fight for children to be ripped from their parents or so people could make slaves of others in the Maker's name!"

_Defrocked or named the Divine of Ferelden,_ I thought to myself. "I have to warn you," I said to her and the teenagers. Both were mages, I could tell. "What's in there… it's brutal. I was _ill_ seeing it. Literally ill. I've never had that happen before. Not with darkspawn, not with the archdemon. I'm no wilting flower, so that should tell you how bad it is." They nodded mutely. "And… I need to ask the templars to wait in the hall. I _know_ we're on the same side here," I added quickly. "It's just… these women were brutalized, if they wake and see you standing there in the armor…"

One of them took off his helm. "I can understand that completely," he said, smiling down at me. He had long dark hair and tan skin that would normally indicate at least a hint of Rivaini blood. I looked up and tried to place him.

"Ser Bryant?" I said finally, recognizing the man who had assisted us in Lothering, the first person to tell us about the horrid crime the Grey Wardens had been accused of, while saying in the same breath he didn't believe it for a moment.

He saluted me. "Commander. I'm surprised you remember me after all this time."

"I don't think anyone could ever forget the moment they discovered they were wanted for high treason and regicide," I said with a grim smile. "And you helped us without even making a comment about myself or the other mage in our group. It was a huge surprise." Plus, I rambled to Morrigan about what a waste it was for someone so handsome to be under a vow of celibacy, with comments about what I could do given an hour and a bedroom with a locking door, at least until Alistair turned red and ran away from us to wait outside. I didn't need to tell him that part, though.

He shrugged. "In all honesty, I simply didn't have the time to deal with chasing apostates at the time. I was concerned, but protecting the village was a greater priority. I will admit, it was quite a surprise to discover the young mage I met in Lothering went on to become the Hero of Ferelden. It forced me to… reevaluate much of what I'd always been told." I raised my eyebrows at that.

"Mags, I need you," Anders shouted from the room. I turned back to the templars.

"Look, you can just wait out here or, if you want, head down to the common room. They might need some help down there." I turned to Sigrun, "can you let Nathaniel know we may be here for a day or two, the healing will take a while and none of them will be in condition to travel for at least a day after. See if he can send someone back to the Keep to update them and wait on word from Denerim." She nodded and headed down the stairs with the templars.

I spun and opened the door, tossing back a lyrium potion while walking over to Anders before calling up the spell. He sighed with relief and went back to healing. I took care of the other mages, requiring another potion, and checked on all the women. The two teenage apostates swayed a bit on their feet seeing the women but quickly set to work. "We have lyrium," I told them, "but it's better if you just let me know when you're getting tired. I'll cast a rejuvenate spell instead. Better the battlemage gets addled than the healers right now." As if I needed to punctuate that statement, I almost fell over walking back to my chair. After sitting quietly for a moment my mind began to clear and I was able to work again.

A glance outside showed the sun peeking over the horizon. All of the life-threatening injuries had been taken care of, and a few of the women had already been fully healed. However, it had taken us hours to get to that point. I wasn't sure if we could all keep going until it was done, and didn't know how safe it would be to keep knocking them out magically whenever the spell started to wear off. I just had to trust that Anders knew what he was doing and hope we made it through this.

* * *

_Aw, you knew I couldn't stay away that long. Don't know WHAT I was thinking saying that. ;) As always, thanks so much to my reviewers and everyone who follows this. _


	55. Under all the darkspawn blood and crazy

I eventually began dressing the women who had already been healed. To my surprise, the Revered Mother helped me lift them up so I could slide the clean undergarments on them and the dresses over their heads. They were still sleeping soundly, I suspected waking up in clean clothes would be a bit more comforting. A glance towards the window confirmed it was nearing mid-morning. Aidan, Anders, and Jowan all had dark circles under their eyes. Even with my help they had been casting spells for close to twelve hours without a break. I saw Aidan's head start to sag, he snapped back up and resumed work.

"Aidan, take a break," I said.

"I'm fine, almost done."

"One hour nap, that's an order," I insisted. He nodded and stood up, leaving to find a clean and empty room. "When he gets back I want you two to decide who goes next," I warned Jowan and Anders.

"And you?" Anders said.

"I'm fine," I replied, sitting on the floor.

"You're a horrible liar, my dear," he replied smartly. "Remember our talk about how you have to listen to me when it comes to your health? I'd be surprised if you forgot, we've had it several times." I could hear the priest stifle a giggle at that. He stood up and walked over to me, cupping my chin in his hand. "You're high as a kite and exhausted. One hour nap for you, too. That's an order."

"You're not my boss!" I protested. "I'm _your _boss!" I started laughing at that idea. "Wow, I'm _horrible _at that chain of command thing. I'm lucky we don't have rules about fraternizing!" Anders shook his head and chuckled.

"What—?" I mumbled, opening my eyes. I was lying on the floor, a blanket over me.

"He put you to sleep," the Revered Mother said, perched primly in a chair not far from me.

"Anders!" I snapped, looking around the room for him. I didn't see him anywhere.

The Revered Mother cleared her throat and pointed at the wall. "Um, behind you, Commander." I tried to sit up and found I couldn't. Now that I was fully awake I could see why. An arm was clamped protectively around my waist, and Anders had managed to curl himself up in the space between me and the wall.

"Oh," I said, slipping out from under his grip. Anders made a noise of protest in his sleep so I shoved a pillow into his arms, which he immediately grabbed onto and fell silent. I brushed his hair from his face and recovered him with the blanket before standing up, taking a seat in the chair next to the Revered Mother. Jowan and Aidan were both sleeping against the far wall, still sitting up, leaning shoulder to shoulder. The apostates who arrived with the priest were doing the same.

"Your patients should be asleep for another few hours, or until someone revives them," she told me. "They're fully healed, but Ser Anders wanted them to rest longer, and thought they would react better if they woke without a group of strange men in mage robes leaning over them." I nodded, seeing the wisdom in his plan. _Anyone _in mage robes tended to make normal people nervous, and I suspected strange men would make these women even more upset. Although I didn't appreciate being put to sleep against my will, now that my mind had cleared I was remembering just what I said before he cast the spell. Maybe I was a bit out of sorts. "You sent someone to Denerim?" she asked me suddenly.

"Yes," I confirmed. "They should be there soon, if they aren't already. One of the riders is a mage, he can use spells to keep the horses moving faster."

"To… the Grand Cleric?"

I gave her a sideways glance and couldn't help but snort under my breath. "No. To the king or his chancellor, with orders to use force if necessary so no one else intercepts the message." I couldn't help but chuckle. "The Grand Cleric… isn't one of my favorite people."

"Oh?" she said, looking nervous. "Are you expecting more… difficulties?"

"Oh no," I said. "She told me there won't be. Not because she _doesn't_ want me dead or anything like that, just because she knows I'm more popular than her and it would only hurt the Chantry." I sighed, wondering why I was even telling her all this. But then, people talked to priests, right? Discussed their problems and got nice comforting answers about the Maker's divine plan, didn't they? "Apparently Anders has been wanting to propose for months. Bought the ring and everything," I added, holding up my hand. "He didn't since he was worried that the Chantry wouldn't approve of two mages being married. At the ball after the royal wedding Alistair… er, His Majesty talked to the Grand Cleric. He asked if she would be willing to perform the Hero of Ferelden's wedding." I rolled my eyes. "Alistair told Anders, Anders asked me… and we didn't find out until the next day that the king neglected to mention who I would be marrying. She wasn't happy to find out."

"I can't imagine she would have been," the Revered Mother said. "Even if she allowed it as an exception it would set a precedent."

"That's what she told me," I said. "So, I told her I'd just go to the Dalish or Orzammar and tell everyone who would listen why."

"Why didn't you ask me?" she said.

I shrugged. "I didn't even know Anders was thinking about it until last week. And when the Grand Cleric all but turned us down I figured that would apply to any priest." I offered her a small smile, wanting to make sure she knew I didn't neglect to ask out of any personal dislike. "I'm happy we have such a good relationship. You've always been good to the Wardens, and you've never treated our mages any differently from other people. I didn't want to damage that by putting you in an awkward position."

She nodded slowly. "Well, if I'm still a priest when all of this is said and done, which is _highly_ unlikely, I would be happy to do it."

I was quiet for a moment, too surprised to reply, although I suppose I shouldn't have been. "Thank you," I said finally.

"You're nervous," she replied. It wasn't a question.

"Silly, isn't it?" I laughed. "I mean, it won't change anything. Just a new bit of jewelry. I just never really expected this or thought about it before. I didn't think I cared, or even wanted anything like this, but now I'm just worried something will go wrong. It means so much to him." I glanced over at Anders, sleeping on the floor, still curled around the pillow I'd handed him.

"Being nervous is normal," she said. "Everyone is. I'd be concerned if I married people who _weren't_ nervous."

"Perhaps," I said. We lapsed into silence as I watched the sun set outside. At some point Sigrun came up to join us.

"When did you eat?" she asked me.

"Yesterday?" I said after thinking for a moment. No wonder I didn't feel good.

"That's what I figured," she said. "The bartender's wife made us all dinner. Go eat, we'll keep an eye on the girls." I noticed most of the female Wardens who accompanied us were standing in the hall.

"Thanks," I told her gratefully. She woke Aidan and Jowan while I woke Anders, and the Revered Mother took care of her people.

"What do you think we should do?" I said over the meal. Isolde, who had been waiting downstairs, tried to climb onto my lap when she saw me. I had to firmly order her to sit, since she now weighed almost as much as me. Most of the Wardens were out wandering the city, trying to spread the word that order had returned. "Wait here for whoever Alistair sends, or head home?"

"If I may?" the Revered Mother said. I nodded and waved my hand for her to continue. "If the Grand Cleric knows of this, or hears of it, she will want the templars you've captured turned over to her custody."

"Absolutely not," I said quickly. "They want me to be a noble? I'm going to act like one. I have the right of final justice, and the men we caught here will be hung. She can have the drunks and thieves, but not the others." I shook my head. "I was in the tower long enough to know what will happen otherwise, and they're _not_ going to be reassigned somewhere out of the way so they can do the same thing to some poor hedge witch or village healer."

"I assumed you would say as much," she replied. "So, to that end, you may want to leave a few people here to make sure she doesn't simply arrive and… take them."

I sighed. "I'm not making anyone argue with the Grand Cleric for me. I'll stay. And I want _our_ people guarding the prison. People who won't be swayed into letting them go." I thought for a moment. "Mal, Runi and Tobias can guard in three shifts." Mal and Runi, in addition to being trustworthy, had no care for the Andrastian religion. Anyone who confronted them wouldn't be able to use guilt or spiritual blackmail since they were never believers to begin with. Tobias had already proven he would put the Wardens above the Chantry when he knocked out a templar in front of the Knight-Commander of all Ferelden, and I'd been meaning to give him something special to do. He made me nervous at first with how he reacted to finding out about our reduced lifespan, but had proven himself repeatedly since then.

Ultimately it was decided that Anders, Oghren and Aidan would stay in the city with me, and the others would return to the Keep to wait for news and make sure there were no problems at home. "I'll move your horses into the guard's stables in the morning," Jowan said. "I'm sure they all need tending." He was anxious to get out of the city before the Chancellor arrived, and I couldn't really blame him.

Anders turned to the Revered Mother. "What will happen to you?"

She shrugged. "I'll most likely be defrocked. I'd be very surprised if I wasn't. Of course, should a miracle prevent that, I told the Commander I'd be happy to perform your wedding."

"Is that all?" Oghren asked. "All things considered that's pretty light."

She offered a smile. "Aeonor, perhaps. I'm not sure. I don't know the new Grand Cleric, so I'm not sure how she will react. From what I heard of your encounter with her in Denerim I can't say I have high hopes. I could be executed. Honestly, that would be preferable to the Chantry prison."

I sighed, hoping the First Warden wouldn't order my expulsion for this. "Do you want to go back to the Keep? You and your people can hide out there until the group from Denerim leaves."

"I won't," she said. "I'm not hiding. I'll accept the consequences, I knew what I was doing and I stand by it."

"I think I can speak for the templars," Ser Bryant spoke up. "And we also came into this fully aware of what could happen." His companion nodded in agreement. "Not to mention the repercussions I'm sure you would face from helping us more than you already have."

"Not necessarily," I said. "It'll be weeks before I hear from Weisshaupt, but I suspect the First Warden will support anything I decide to do." Oghren had taken the letter to the port for me when he brought the last of the prisoners to be locked up. It would be weeks before it even reached them, much less a reply came back, though. I suspected by the time it did Ferelden would be independent of Orlais. Or at war. I turned to him, since he had been out in the city. "Are there _any_ guards left?" I asked.

"Aye," he said. "Not many, though, and they're in rough shape."

"Jowan, Aidan, can you two check on them after we eat?" They nodded. "Anders and I will wake up our patients here so they can get home, I'm sure they have worried families." I tried to think of what else had to be done. "Can someone try and hunt down a few strong men, we'll need a gallows built, too."

"I can handle that," Nathaniel said. "It's also customary to post notice of an execution. The who and why. I'll see if I can get a printer to open shop and run off some notices for us." I nodded in thanks.

After we had finished eating I tried to pay the innkeeper, which he adamantly refused. "Your money's no good here, Commander," he said with a wave of his hands. "You've saved us all… again. It's my honor to make sure you get a decent meal."

"Thank you," I finally said, giving in. "But at least let me pay for rooms for the night. We'll need four for at least a few days, but all of them for tonight." He finally gave in and accepted money for the four rooms we would use while we waited for word from Denerim, but told us the rest would go unused anyways by this time of night, so it made no difference if our group took them.

Anders and I finally returned upstairs with the Revered Mother. "Stay close," I asked Sigrun and the others. The spell was already wearing off. They were moving from the deep, dreamless sleep magic provided into one far more restless. "Let's each wake one up," I suggested. "If we cast a spell and they wake at once it'll be chaos. The last thing any of them will remember will be their attacks."

"I'm going to stay back," Anders said. "Some may need more healing, but I won't know until they're awake and can tell me if anything's still painful."

I nodded and approached one of the women. Now that she was healed I could see she was young, maybe a decade younger than me with long pale hair and tanned skin. She was barely an adult at all, I realized, and winced seeing her thrashing in her sleep. I put a hand to her forehead, "You're all right now," I said, trying to keep my voice just loud enough to wake her without startling too much. "You're safe." Her eyes snapped open and she began to scream. "You're safe now! Safe!" I repeated desperately. She sucked in a breath and looked around. "We're all Grey Wardens, the Revered Mother is here with us. The men who hurt you have been arrested."

She glanced from me to the Revered Mother. "What will the Chantry do to them?" she asked, staring beyond me at the priest. From the sound of her voice I suspected she thought the answer wouldn't please her.

"Ferelden is not a theocracy," the Revered Mother said quickly. "Although the Grand Cleric may disagree, the Commander has the right of final justice in this Banneron. You can trust her to make the right decision."

"They'll be hung," I assured her.

"Good," she said flatly before bursting into tears. I pulled her into a hug and let her cry onto my shoulder. She pulled away after a moment and looked around the room. Some of the other women had left already, accompanied by Wardens who offered to help them home. "You're the Hero of Ferelden," she said finally.

"Among other things, but yeah, that's what the king dubbed me."

"I can see your statue from my window at home," she said. "He's the other mage from the statue, right," she said, glancing over at Anders who was sitting against a wall, sleeping once again.

I nodded. "That's Warden Anders, he's been working nonstop for days to heal everyone. It's exhausting magic to use, he wanted to make sure no one needed more help but I guess sleep took him by surprise."

"I'm… I feel…" she paused. "Well, I feel _horrible_, but nothing hurts, if that's what you mean. I'm not injured."

"Unfortunately physical injuries are the only kind magic works on," I said.

"Figured as much. Could you… could you somehow make me forget? Like nothing ever happened? Can magic do that?"

"No," I said, feeling bad. Blood magic might have been able to do something like that, but not with the spells I knew. "I wish I could. The best I can do is swear nothing that happened was your fault, and promise they will be brought to justice." She nodded and I offered to walk her home.

"No," she said. "Thank you, but… I'd like some time to think. Please let your friend know he has my thanks for healing me." I promised I would and she left. Within moments they were all gone, other than a few who had excused themselves to another room to pray with the Revered Mother. Alone with the sleeping Anders I sat on the bed and stared blankly forward. Was I wrong to send to Denerim for help? I hadn't realized how easy it would be to subdue the templars. When the first forces tried they were at fighting strength. We faced them in the grip of lyrium withdrawal, making it a relatively easy fight. They most likely couldn't have even summoned a proper smite against us if they tried.

I suppose part of me assumed Alistair would show up himself, ready to step in with some much-needed royal rage. He was a newlywed, after all. Didn't they have to… go somewhere? Wasn't that part of the whole getting-married package?

What if he just sent troops? What would I tell them? "Oops, nevermind, all under control?" I suppose I could always enlist them as temporary guards until our force was rebuilt, since the templars had killed so many when they first arrived. That was… reasonable, wasn't it? Seemed like a decent plan, and we would certainly need the men. I vaguely wondered if the executioner was still alive, and how I could even find him. Their names were never revealed, and they wore a hood, so very few ever knew their true identity. It was better that way. Better their neighbors not look at them askance and wonder how much blood was on their hands.

"Stop worrying." I looked up, Anders was now awake and watching me from across the room. "It's the middle of the night, there's nothing we can do now."

"I know," I said, falling back onto the bed. The sheets were crusted with dried blood, but it didn't faze me. I'd been covered with enough blood in my life to fill Lake Calenhad, a few drops couldn't make me flinch. "If troops come I'm going to make them acting guards until we have a full component again. I need to figure out who the executioner is, I don't know. Varel might. I thought Alistair would come, but he and Elissa are supposed to be traveling." I paused and looked up at him, propped on my elbow. "Will we have to go somewhere? After we get married?"

"What?" he said. "Where did this come from?"

"Elissa said she and Alistair were going to travel the coastlands after the wedding. I guess that's what people do after getting married, they go somewhere."

Anders laughed. "We're _always_ going somewhere." He climbed to his feet and walked over, joining me at the edge of the filthy bed. I noticed the smell of lyrium still clung to him when he got closer, and then realized he had spilled a potion on himself. It was dried, bright blue and sticky, on the belt of his robes. That must have been after I was asleep. "We don't have to go on any trips. That's tradition, but it's not part of the ceremony itself. Odds are we'd have to go on a trip just to _get_ married unless we talk the Revered Mother into performing the ceremony before anyone from Denerim arrive—" He paused, blinking.

"You know…" I said. "Almost everyone is still here. Alistair's the only person who would miss anything."

"And he told us not to let him know anything until after the fact so he could pretend he was in the dark," Anders pointed out.

"True," I said slowly in agreement.

"Meet you downstairs in an hour?" he said, eyebrow raised.

I nodded, taking the key to our room from him and heading upstairs with my pack.

I had just stepped out of the bath, which I had filled by freezing it several times over before blasting it with flames, not wanting to disturb the bartender and his family, when someone began pounding on my door. I pulled on the first layer of my robes and opened the door to see Sigrun, Runi, and the scout Rowan, with the dalish tattoos, standing on the other side. Another dwarven woman was with him, I recognized her vaguely as the bartender's wife.

"You're wearing _that?_" Sigrun said. "Oh no." They pushed their way into the room and slammed the door.

"What's wrong with this?" I demanded. It was my favorite set of robes, the ones Alistair had given me when I left Denerim to become commander. "There's more to them, I don't have the belt, caplet, or stockings on yet." I looked down at them. "These are my best robes. They came all the way from Weisshaupt!"

"Is she always this clueless?" Rowan asked Sigrun.

"I'm _right here_," I said at the same time Sigrun offered a nod of confirmation.

"Maggie, don't argue," Sigrun said. "You _are_ clueless."

"You're no better," I protested. "You've been to as many of these as I have!"

"I've at least read books!" she said. "When I tried to lend you a romance you asked if it had good fight scenes!"

My robes were yanked unceremoniously over my head. "Hey!" I protested, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Try this," Sigrun said, shoving a blue dress at me.

"Too small," I said, trying to pull the back laces closed.

"No it's not," the bartender's wife said, shoving my hands away. "Take a deep breath." She yanked at the strings and I yelped.

"I need to breathe!"

"No you don't," she said.

I glanced at a mirror on the wall and gasped, crossing my arms again. "Andraste's sword," I complained. "I can't go out like this. I'm falling out the top of this!"

"You look fine," Sigrun said. "Now sit."

She began to tug at my hair, occasionally retrieving things from a bag they brought in, while the other women slathered makeup all over me. "You know, Anders once asked if we had girl talk while fixing each others' hair," I said to her, giggling.

"Really? Can you even imagine! 'Some fight today, hey let me give you an Orlesian braid!'" She giggled. "Nathaniel asked me the same thing. His version involved a pillow fight."

"Funny, so did Anders' version," I laughed. "He said we could get it drawn for recruitment posters. I wonder if they know how much they have in common. At least in terms of their twisted imaginations."

"I think we're all safer if they don't know," Sigrun said. "We don't need the two of them conspiring together. Its bad enough they both spend so much time with Oghren. I blame his influence." She stepped back to look at me. "What do you think?" Sigrun asked the others. Rowan shook her head and grabbed the bag, retrieving a handful of what I could now see were small flowers, before tucking them into my hair.

"_Flowers_?" I said. "Are you kidding me?"

"You look nice," Sigrun said. "Stop complaining."

"I'm not… a flowers person," I said. "Anders won't even recognize me. We didn't want to make a big deal out of this."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, Maggie, _you_ didn't want to make a big deal out of this. He just didn't argue." I glanced over at her and she nodded. "He's a bit more normal than you, which isn't saying much, but I think Anders wanted a bigger deal than just stomping over covered in battle grime and signing a paper. Of course, he'd never argue with you, so…"

"He argues with me all the time," I said.

"Yeah, but not about something like _this_. He was petrified you would say no. Nathaniel told me."

"Why would he think that?"

She laughed. "Well, let's see, you hate formalities, you're stubborn as a mabari, you _live_ for thumbing your nose at the Chantry…"

"All right, all right," I said. "Still, he should have known I wouldn't have said no." Runi was digging in one of the bags and grinned, retrieving some kind of makeup she smeared around my eyes with a tiny brush.

"There," she said. The three of them stepped back and nodded.

"Wait here," Sigrun said. "Nathaniel and Oghren are taking Anders to the Chantry. You can meet him there."

"We were going to meet downstairs," I said. "And walk over together."

The bartender's wife shook her head and made a tsk sound. "He's not supposed to _see_ you before the ceremony. Don't they teach you mages anything?"

"No," I said, thinking the answer to that was fairly obvious. The three of them left and I chanced a glimpse in the mirror, quickly looking away. I had on so much makeup I could easily be confused for a whore. A very high class whore who most likely used the term "escort" but a whore all the same, especially since the dress had me pushed up and out so far I could balance a tray of drinks on my chest if I was so inclined.

This was the last thing I wanted. I wanted something quick and simple, no fuss and no one fawning over me. But, if Anders really wanted me looking like I fell face first into a makeup bin wearing a dress that was too small with plants in my hair, well, I'd suffer through it and make sure I smiled the whole time.

The hair was nice at least, although I suspected I'd be picking little bits of flowers out of it for days to come.

Another knock at the door. I opened it and saw Jowan, wearing more found clothing Sigrun must have dug up from somewhere, whose jaw dropped. "Look what they did to me, I look like I should be working at the Pearl," I said.

"No, you look pretty," he insisted. "One of those times I have to remember you're actually a girl under all the darkspawn blood and crazy."

"Thanks?" I said, laughing. "So, what are you doing here? I thought everyone who took charge of this whisked all the boys off to the Chantry."

"Not me," Jowan said. "Nathaniel and Sigrun decided I get to give you away." I roared with laughter. "Hey, it's not _that_ funny," he protested. "Now that I actually have a daughter I figured out she's the only one who can manipulate me even more than you could. And I _am _the one who made you a maleficar, maybe that counts. Although you did force me into it, and I was in prison at the time." He shook his head. "Seriously, you couldn't get me a glass of water before sending your people away and demanding 'blood magic, teach me now or I set you on fire!'"

"Sorry, I was a bit angry with you at the time."

He laughed. "I can't really blame you for that." He reached into a pocket and handed me a small flask. "Figured you might want a drink or two. Antivan brandy."

I accepted it and drank the contents quickly, feeling less like I wanted to jump out a window and hide in the woods after it was down. "How did I survive without you for so long?"

"No idea," he said. "Soberly, I suspect. Well, come on, let's go. Anders was fine until those two started in with their 'She's the Commander of the Grey, she can't just get married in bloodstained robes, what will people think,' stuff. Now he's pacing and worried you'll decide he isn't good enough and Oghren is taking bets on if you'll run away." Not good enough? Maker's breath, he was the kind-hearted healer every girl in the tower adored, I was just, well, the battle scarred crazy maleficar. I still couldn't understand what he saw in _me. _Jowan gave me a strange look, not sure how to interpret my expression. "What?" he asked.

"I'm just wondering if this is what it feels like to be the only sane person left alive, since you are all completely mad." I shook my head. "Seriously, it's almost midnight. Clearly tradition doesn't matter much. Odds are it'll just be invalidated when they defrock the Revered Mother."

He raised an eyebrow. "Will it? You think the Grand Cleric will publicly invalidate the marriage of the Hero of Ferelden because of a problem with the priest? I don't know if she'd risk having half of Ferelden up in arms when they find out."

"Maybe," I said. "Do you know if they found the executioner yet?"

He sighed. "I have no idea. Can you not think about killing things for an hour or two, just until your _wedding_ is over?"

"Clearly not," I said, shoving my arm through his. "Let's go."

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews, particularly with the last chapter. I'm glad it didn't come across as too far out of tone. Hope everyone had a lovely weekend. I am older, no wiser, and have a sunburn. Ah, fun._


	56. How much of that are you carrying?

Isolde started barking as soon as we made it to the common room. "I know, I look silly," I told her. She snorted in disagreement. "Well, that's _your_ opinion. Is your brother here?" She barked again and trotted off, returning with Ser Barks. "Good girl," I said, scratching her ears. I pulled two blue ribbons from my hair and tied one around each of their necks, a simple knot for Ser Barks and a bow for Isolde. "If we have to dress up so do you two," I said.

"Is she drunk?" Sigrun asked Jowan. She had been waiting for us there, also wearing a new dress.

"Maybe?" he said. "Not much, though."

"But she's bringing the dogs?"

"This _is_ Ferelden," Jowan pointed out. Sigrun just shook her head. I was getting slightly annoyed with the 'talking about me like I wasn't standing there' thing everyone had been doing.

"I don't have a ring," I said suddenly. "I should have a ring, right? For Anders?"

"By the Stone, you _are_ clueless," Sigrun said. She pulled a bag from her pocket. "We got these on loan, you'll need to go pay for whichever one you keep tomorrow at the jeweler. He wasn't happy to part with them until we told him whose middle-of-the-night wedding they were for." I picked through them and grabbed one, slipping it onto my middle finger experimentally since it was the same size as Anders' ring finger.

"This one," I said, leaving it on so I wouldn't drop it and returning the others.

"I figured you'd pick that," Sigrun said. "Nathaniel said it was the gaudiest thing he'd ever seen, I said that made it perfect for Anders." It wasn't _that_ gaudy, really, I thought looking down at the band. Silver, with scrollwork engraving the top and bottom, and a row of tiny sapphires set into a channel around the middle. Well, perhaps a little gaudy, but not in a _bad_ way or anything. Gaudy in a classy way. It would match the ring he gave me already, and it was definitely something he would like.

"Be right back," I said suddenly, jumping up. Sigrun looked confused but Jowan didn't say anything other than warning me to hurry. Bolting up the stairs I dug through my pack and found a small wooden box. Digging out the tiniest engraver in it I took off the ring and carefully carved a series of runes into the inside before smearing them with lyrium and running a fingertip over it, flames melting the lurium into the metal, careful not to use enough fire to damage the ring. "Ready," I said, returning downstairs.

"Let me see," Jowan demanded. "I don't want you giving him something deadly because you were drunk and carved a line crooked." I passed the ring over and he examined it before returning it. "Huh. Your runes get _better_ after a few drinks. Shame you didn't figure that out before you got a C in the class. Frost, though? I thought Anders preferred lightning."

"He does. He'll get it, though. And I got a B- in that class, thank you very much."

"You enchanted something that quickly?" Sigrun said. "I thought the lyrium had to bake for hours?" I held my hand up and summoned a tongue of flame. "Ah," she said, nodding as we left. "Should have guessed that."

We climbed the stairs to the upper part of the city and, for the eighth time, I tripped, requiring Jowan to catch me so I didn't land on the ground. "This is insane. I can't hold this dress up any more. Do you have a knife?"

"What?" Sigrun said, horrified. "No! Do you know what we _paid_ for that dress?" My head snapped over and she clamped her mouth shut. I certainly hadn't expected anyone to buy me a dress.

"I'm paying you back," I said. She made a face at me.

"Let go of the train," Jowan said. I did and he spread it out behind me. "All right, dogs, feel like helping so she doesn't crack her head open on the ground?" They both barked and he held up a corner for each to take in their teeth. "There," Jowan said. "Problem solved. Put the dogs to work, now you just have to worry about the front."

"Clever," I said.

"This is _insane_," Sigrun said. "You can't have _dogs_ as attendants."

I shrugged. "Why not? They can be Wardens just like us, the bar for that's a lot higher than just holding up some silk." She shook her head but didn't argue as we continued on through the dark streets of the city. Insane or not, I didn't trip again now that I only had to worry about lifting the front a few inches instead of that and keeping four feet of the back off the pavement. "Is there a reason my staff is missing?" I asked as we neared the Chantry.

"Because I hid it," Sigrun replied. "So you wouldn't wear it with the dress." That had, in fact, been my plan. "Look, we _all_ know you're a mage. The whole of Thedas knows. You don't need to carry it everywhere. You look _nice_, you don't want some chunk of wood strapped to your back ruining it."

"But what if something happens?" I said.

"Then you can use one of the half-dozen daggers I'm sure you've hidden all over yourself," she replied with a laugh. I couldn't help but smile. I did have a dagger in my bodice and one up my sleeve, and a tiny one hidden in my hair. Not _half a dozen_, though! That would be overkill, I didn't even have that many hands.

"Ready?" Jowan asked, standing by the Chantry door. I took a breath, stepping back as I looked at it.

"No," I said.

"Is this 'no, I need a moment,' or 'no, and I never will be, so might as well go in now.'"

"The second one," I said.

"Hold on," Sigrun said. She ran over to the small flower garden outside the Chantry and picked a handful of blue and white flowers, bunching them together and shoving them in my hand. "There," she said, positioning my arm.

"More flowers?" I said, looking at them.

"Just go with it," Jowan said.

The door opened before we could touch it and Nathaniel slipped out. "I was going to start looking for you," he said, before taking in the sight of the dogs and laughing. "_That_ is fantastic," he said. "Mabari attendants. If everyone in Ferelden didn't worship you already they would as soon as all the people inside spread word of that." _All the people?_ I thought, getting nervous. How many were in there? More than just the other Wardens? He glanced at Sigrun. "You were right about the ring," he said with a shake of his head and a slight face.

"Twice over," she replied. "We're late since she decided on doing some last second enchantments."

"I should have guessed as much. He did the same thing." Nathaniel turned to me and explained what I had to do. I nodded dumbly. "Is _any_ of this registering?" he finally said.

"Go in when you open the doors. Wait. Walk behind you and Sigrun. Stop in front of the priest, who I will recognize from having met her before. Stand next to Anders, who I should also recognize by virtue of not being a_ complete sodding idiot_. No lightning," I said, rolling my eyes. "Really, did you need to tell me the Revered Mother would be in gold robes and Anders is wearing blue? I know what both of them look like. Maker's breath, if need you to tell me which one _Anders_ is maybe marrying him isn't the best idea?"

"I worry sometimes," he said. "And don't think I can't smell brandy on your breath." He cast a glance at Jowan who grinned and shrugged.

"Better than letting her panic," he said. "You know Maggie doesn't do great when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Let's just… do this, before I _do_ panic," I said. "I didn't want a big _thing_ and now it's this whole big _thing_ and I have flowers and this dress and I can't _breathe_ and I'm going to fall over and apparently there are all sorts of _people_ in there and I don't have my staff, and everyone's going to be looking at me—"

"Drink," Jowan said, shoving a flask in my hand.

I did before passing it back to him, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes.

"How much of that are you carrying?" Nathaniel asked.

"Enough," he said. "I've known Maggie for almost twenty-five years. Why do you think I told you this would happen as soon as I heard you two making plans?"

"She's usually fine," Nathaniel said. "Even with big public speeches."

"Sure," Jowan said. "She spent a year getting used to those before you met her, and they don't take place in a _Chantry_. And no one ever took her robes and staff away first before shoving her into the one place every mage in Thedas feels most unwanted." Yep, really annoyed with the talking like I wasn't here thing.

"But the Revered Mother _really_ likes her," Sigrun said.

"One nice priest doesn't really cancel out having a priest read passages about how evil you are to you every day, before every meal, for twenty years," Jowan said. "Wait here." He grabbed my arm and we went down the stairs, dogs following us.

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"We are looking for a tree," he said.

"A _tree?"_

"_That_ tree," he said, pointing to an apple tree. It was too soon for apples, the branches were all covered in pink and white flowers. Jowan pulled a dagger from his belt and clamped it between his teeth before climbing up and hacking off a branch. Hopping down he carved something into the branch with the tip of the knife before replacing it in his belt. He reached into a pocket and sprinkled powder from a pouch onto the carving before holding his hand over it, small flames licking at the wood. "There," he said, taking my flowers away and handing me the branch. "Feel better?"

"Actually… yes," I giggled, aiming an experimental bolt at a brick wall nearby. Thanks to Jowan it was now an absurd, flower-covered, apple-scented staff.

"Well, let's go before Anders thinks you ran away," he said.

"Thank you," I said, squeezing his hand.

"Anything for my kid sister on her wedding day," he said with a smile as we walked back. "Although if you had told me this would happen ten years ago I would have laughed hard enough to break something."

"I think I would have, too," I admitted.

"Seems fitting, though. Confusing, disorganized, middle of the night, and performed by a priest who is likely days away from execution for heresy." I elbowed him and he laughed as we walked. "Not a word," Jowan warned Sigrun and Nathaniel, seeing them eye the branch as we returned. He handed her the flowers and they both held up their hands in identical gestures of supplication before walking to the doors. I nodded and they pulled the massive doors open. Ser Bryant and another templar I vaguely recognized rushed over, holding them so Sigrun and Nathaniel could walk ahead of us.

Clutching the branch in my hand so hard my knuckles were white, trailing falling petals behind me with every step, I focused on not falling down, not tripping on the dress, not walking into Sigrun, and not passing out. I glanced up at Anders, he looked, well, almost as nervous as I felt, but he managed a small grin I was able to return. Once we got to the front I saw Oghren clap Anders on the back, forcing him to step forward. From what I recalled of Alistair's wedding that meant Oghren was standing in for Anders' parent, like Eamon had for Alistair. I couldn't decide if I found that disturbing or amusing. I switched the side I was holding my branch on so Jowan could put my hand in Anders' before he stood to one side. "I'll explain later," I whispered as Anders looked over the makeshift staff.

"Please do," he said with a slight chuckle. I heard someone laugh after Jowan darted out to whisper to the dogs and both trotted off to stand at either end of the row of people. The Revered Mother raised an eyebrow and grinned before lifting her hands and saying a prayer.

"You're supposed to kneel now," she whispered to us.

"Oh!" I said, quickly dropping to one knee and adjusting my dress. She went on, reading the bits of the Chant about Andraste's marriage to the Maker, then another prayer, then more chant, then another prayer. _Maker, this is the **short** ceremony?_,I thought to myself before realizing she was looking at us.

"Stand up," she whispered. We quickly did and she began to recite the vows we had to repeat. I remembered Alfstanna talking about how melodramatic she found them before Alistair's wedding. The bit about being willing to die for them as Andraste did for the Maker, I suppose. But then, she didn't face death on a regular basis, so I suppose it would seem a bit much to her. That was the first part of this entire evening that made a bit of sense to me, though. I gave him his ring, which he looked down at and grinned, and he gave me mine, which was actually identical to the one I picked for him, albeit smaller.

Finally a templar brought out a small table with two parchments on it and a large, ornate quill. Anders signed first, his flowery script filling the line on both pieces. I raised my eyebrow seeing what he wrote. Instead of the "Warden Anders" or even "Anders Amell" he had used in the past this said "Anders Mac Greine." "My stepfather's last name," he whispered. "It was my name… before. Decided to go back to it, well, just now." He shrugged and grinned at me.

I giggled as I took the pen from him. Not knowing my old name, I could only sign as Margaret Amell. Jowan and Nathaniel then signed as witnesses, since Oghren and Sigrun weren't eligible, not being Andrastians. I wasn't entirely sure Jowan was eligible, either, but didn't want to question it at this point. I noticed it would have taken a team of scholars several generations to decipher even a single letter from the scratching signature he applied, so I suppose he wanted to make sure no one in the Chantry connected his name to the dead man they thought he was. The templar blotted one, rolled it up, and handed it to Anders, which apparently meant that we got a copy.

He grabbed my hand again and we both looked at the priest, waiting for some kind of signal. "Kneel," she whispered. That done, she blessed us, made us stand up again, and told Anders he could kiss "his bride," which I suppose was me.

"About time," he said, turning and putting his arms around me. "Hey, mind the branch!" he chuckled as I accidentally covered us with more apple blossom petals. I could hear everyone clap and cheer as our lips met and giggled.

We held on to each other for a moment after our mouths parted. "Love you," I whispered.

"That's good," he whispered back, "since you're _really _stuck with me now." I laughed at that. Now that it was actually over I felt much less nervous. We separated and looked out at the crowd. I saw all the Wardens, of course. Behind them were about two dozen people I didn't recognize, I realized after a second they must have been the apostates and their families the Revered Mother had been harboring, or at least the older ones who wouldn't already be asleep at this late hour. Templars were mixed throughout the group as well. I was surprised to see several I recognized, not just from my travels around Ferelden but also from my years in the tower. Ser Bryant, of course, but I also recognized the Knight-Commander of Denerim, and a man who I was fairly sure was Alfstanna's brother, although I'd only seen him with a beard before and couldn't be positive. I even recognized the templar who was often in charge of supervising my advanced primal classes to make sure no one's spell got out of control and always tried to cough to cover up when he laughed at the jokes I made in class. Since the fire spells made the room unbearably hot he was one of the few who would remove the helm while on duty.

"Walk" the Revered Mother said from behind us so we exchanged a glance before doing just that. We were halfway to the door before I heard barking. I turned and saw Isolde and Ser Barks rushing towards us. We paused until they had managed to scoop the train of my dress in their teeth once more, and then continued on our way. The templars held the door once again, nodding to both of us before we went outside.

"We're married," Anders said, laughing.

"I remember," I said, also laughing as I leaned against the statue of Andraste. "I was there."

"Just wanted to make sure," he said. "I detected a hint of brandy in that kiss. Wasn't sure just how much Jowan gave you to drink."

"How did you know it was him?" I asked.

"Well, I _knew_ you'd need a drink to deal with this after Nathaniel and Sigrun managed to turn it into a whole big _thing_. And if I knew it seems reasonable he would, too. He's known you forever, after all."

I nodded and looked at my hand. "We picked the same ring."

"Of _course_ we did," he said. "We both have fantastic taste." He looked over at me and put a hand to my cheek. "I know I must, since I just married the most beautiful woman in Thedas." I pulled him towards me, kissing Anders with far more enthusiasm than either of us had dared in front of everyone inside the Chantry. He broke away from my lips and began to work his way down my neck, whispering about how much he loved me between bites and kisses as he ran a hand up my leg.

"On the _steps _of the Chantry itself? Right against the statue of Andraste?" called a voice. With a sigh of annoyance Anders stood up straight and we both turned to see Oghren, Jowan, Nathaniel, and Sigrun watching us with amused expressions. "Do both of you wake up every day and decide to do all you can to prove that bit about mage's reputations true?" Nathaniel went on, laughing.

"Aw, leave them alone," Jowan said. "They just got married."

"Aye," Oghren said. "And I'm sure they've been waiting for that. Oh, wait, no… they haven't. And anyone with ears who ever camped within a hundred yards of them knows it." He laughed at his joke and started towards the stairs. "Come on, back to the inn," he said. "Everyone else will be along in a bit. Figured you two would be up to no good and wanted to cut you off before the rest of the Wardens saw you." We followed behind them, walking to the inn. "Surprised you were even standing up, myself. I owe Nate five silvers."

"What?" Anders said. "You thought we'd be… _rutting_ on the ground outside the Chantry like animals."

"Pretty much," Oghren confirmed. "Don't tell me you weren't tempted, boy."

Anders laughed at that. "Well, perhaps a little. But you can't blame me for that entirely." Oghren only laughed harder and kept walking.

I gasped when we opened the door to the inn. The main room had been decorated with blue flowers and ribbons, and I could smell food from the kitchen. Particularly impressive given that it was now nearing two in the morning if the clock on the tower outside was accurate. "Not your doing?" I said, taking in the looks of surprise on Nathaniel and Sigrun's faces.

"We couldn't let two fine young people get married without a proper wedding banquet," the bartender spoke up. "So, my wife, she got to cooking, and my little girl decorated for you."

"Let me give you something for this," Nathaniel said quickly, stepping forward and reaching for his pocket.

"Won't hear of it!" the bartender said.

"Besides," his wife spoke up, "it'll pay for itself when we put up a sign telling everyone that two of the Heroes of Amaranthine spent their wedding night here!"

The bartender sighed. "What my wife _means_ is that it's an honor you've chosen our small establishment." I giggled at that, suspecting her statement was far closer to the truth. Really, we were here because this is where the templars had been, but we always stayed at this inn when we were in the city anyways. It was the only place with clean linens and without bugs that didn't also charge five sovereign or more for a room. I could deal with dirt and insects when camping, but if I was actually paying to sleep somewhere not having them around didn't seem like an unreasonable request.

Anders and I were bustled off to a small table at the side of the room. "Now, what can I get you," the bartender's wife asked.

"Two ales," Anders said.

"Actually, can you spare a few sheets of paper, a pen, and some wax briefly? I need to write three letters." She gave me a strange look but nodded before bustling off.

"Letters?" Anders said. "Now?"

"You'll see," I said, grinning. I had what I hoped was a fantastic idea, and thought Anders would be quite amused once he realized my plan. Our drinks and the writing supplies were set in front of us. I noticed everyone beginning to trickle in and, seeing the room, grinning before taking seats. I started writing, Anders watching over my shoulder. The first was to Weisshaupt, informing them that we had married and Anders had gone back to his pre-Circle surname, so they should update whatever files they kept on us accordingly. I sighed it _Margaret Mac Greine, Commander of the Grey, Ferelden _which made me giggle.

The next two were identical, writing to inform the newspaper here and in Denerim of our marriage, including where it took place and who performed the ceremony, with a comment at the end about how I believed they would appreciate actual facts since they enjoyed printing speculation so much. Both of those were blotted, addressed, and sealed as well.

The bartender appeared, placing two huge plates of food in front of us. I noticed some of the families from the Chantry and the templars had arrived and taken seats as well. The Revered Mother was sitting with Sigrun and Nathaniel. "Can you have these delivered tomorrow," I asked him, handing him all three letters and several gold coins. "One is local, one for Denerim, and one to the Anderfels."

"Not a problem," he said. "Post stops by first thing every morning. The local should arrive by lunch tomorrow, and the other two on their way at the same time." He cleared away the writing supplies and left.

"Clever," Anders said. "By the time the Grand Cleric finds out all of Amaranthine will already know. Maybe even Denerim." He chuckled. "And once Denerim finds out it's only a matter of time before the whole nation does."

"_And_ it will be too late to stop the letter on route to Weisshaupt. So if she does anything she doesn't just risk getting half of Ferelden mad, she risks angering the First Warden as well." This was assuming the First Warden would care if the Chantry openly insulted two of his people, that is. I had to guess he'd be at least a little bothered by the insult, though.

"Hey, maybe this won't be invalidated in a week after all," he chuckled, raising his glass to me. I clinked mine against his before we both tore into our dinner.

Once the meal had ended people began drinking and drifting over to speak to us. "Ser Irminric?" I said to one of the templars who offered us good wishes. Seeing him up close it seemed far clearer he was Alfstanna's brother I had rescued from Howe's dungeon. Hopefully he didn't recognize Jowan. He nodded in recognition. "I just saw your sister at King Alistair's wedding. I asked about you, she said you were reassigned to the tower."

"I was," he admitted. "I came here instead. I've seen the dark side of the Chantry's use of lyrium. The Revered Mother freeing me from that is more than enough to win her my support, even if I didn't already agree with her on other points."

"I'll need to talk to her about that," Anders mused. "One of our Wardens was a templar. I helped him quit, but it was very difficult, and he had only taken vows six months before joining us. I'm wondering if her method works better than mine."

"Well, she prayed to the Maker to free us from the addiction, of course," Irminric said, as though it was the most logical thing in the world. "The Maker and his bride must smile on Mother Moira," he added, "I never would have expected something so simple to work if I wasn't living proof." He shrugged. "That must sound mad. But anyways, how is my sister? She mentioned that she has a new gentleman friend, but won't tell me who until she knows if it is 'serious.' She's a good woman and a good Bann, but… doesn't make good decisions in that aspect of her life. I worry about her." I almost giggled at that, it was such a typical brotherly statement even coming from a renegade templar talking about his high-ranking noble sister.

"Ohh, I know who!" I said. "Arl Teagan of Redcliffe! They were making eyes at each other all day. Don't worry, he's a wonderful man."

"I know Teagan," he said. "He strikes me as a man of honor. That's a relief. Thank you, once again."

Mal came over later. "Tobias tells me your marriages last forever. Is this true?"

"Yep," I said. "Until death, and then they say you're reunited after in the Beyond."

"Don't yours?" Anders asked.

He chuckled. "No, we don't believe in anything lasting forever. At our wedding the groom is handed a cord covered in knots and has to untie them while the bride sings a song. As many as he has undone by the ending of the song is the years they will be bound."

"But what if you still want to be with that person after?" Anders asked.

"You marry them again," he replied. "I think I would be very nervous agreeing to stay with one person forever."

"That is the _only_ thing today I wasn't nervous about," Anders announced. Mal shook his head in wonder at that and wished us well. Once he left Anders turned to me. "So, _why_ are you carrying a branch around?" he asked me.

"It's not a branch," I said. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at it. "Well, all right, it _is_ a branch, but it's also a staff." I shrugged. "I don't know, I was nervous, and they wouldn't let me wear robes, and Sigrun hid my staff, and then Nathaniel started talking about how many people were in there. I guess I started to panic a little. So Jowan climbed a tree to cut this down and enchanted it for me so I'd at least have a staff to hold onto."

"Can I see?" Anders asked, grinning. I handed it to him, accidentally covering us with a shower of petals from the few flowers still clinging to it. He looked at the runes after brushing the flowers off his head and started laughing. "Jowan," he called. "Is this a joke?"

Jowan laughed in response. "Consider it a wedding gift," he called from across the room.

"What is it?" I said. "I didn't even think to look at the runes."

Anders leaned over, close enough his lips brushed my ear when he whispered and I shuddered. "It's enchanted for a rejuvenation spell."

I started giggling. "You're horrible!" I called to Jowan.

He stared at me with a look of shock on his face. "Me? _You're _the one who figured out _that_ particular use for the spell. If I'm horrible it's your fault!"

Oghren, looking confused, asked Jowan something. After it was explained he made a face. "Sodding _mages_. That's just not _fair._" Aidan looked up and laughed before casting a spell on Oghren. "What?" he said, before chuckling. "Oh hey… now, just come by and do that again once I'm home with the wife."

"I'm _not_ babysitting again," Jowan said. "Your daughter wanted to fight me!"

"She won, didn't she?" Oghren said.

"Yes!" Jowan made a face at him. "What, should I have set a child on fire?" He shook his head and everyone laughed.

Oghren raised a glass, swaying on his feet. "Hey, to the boss and sparklefingers! Let's all thank the ancestors those two lunatics won't be tormenting us with a legion of baby lunatics shooting lightning everywhere!" All the Wardens laughed at this, although the others only looked confused, and Anders raised an eyebrow. Holding one hand up he managed to shoot a small bolt of lightning across the room, hitting Oghren on the backside.

"Hey!" he roared.

"Oh, it doesn't actually _hurt_," I said, demonstrating by hitting Anders with a bolt on the shoulder. He laughed and struck me back quickly. The templars looked at us like we were mad, but the teenage apostates seemed ridiculously amused by the entire thing, as did the Wardens.

"I'll get you for that later!" he warned me in a low voice.

"That's what I'm hoping," I whispered in response. "So," I said to Anders after Oghren, lightning forgotten, began another incoherent toast. "Do we have to wait for all of them to leave before _we_ can leave?"

"I've been wondering that for the last hour," he said. We both glanced at the stairs just in time to see Sigrun appear on them.

"Go to bed," she said as she passed our table on the way back to her seat.

We didn't need her to tell us twice.

* * *

_A/N: Anders last name? Totally made up. It was the last name of an early High King of Ireland, one of the historically dubious ones. Translates roughly to son of the sun since he was the son of an early sun god. Yeaaahh. Inspired by Galagraphia on the bioware forums who referred to Anders as "her sunshine" which I thought was adorable and fitting.  
_

_I was so tempted to have darkspawn, werewolves, templars, or flying zombie andraste attack, but ultimately I just had to give them one nice day. They've earned it. The regularly scheduled nightmare that is the Grey Warden existence will soon resume. After the smut, of course. There can't be a wedding without smut, after all._


	57. We're newlyweds, it's expected of us!

_A/N: And the Maker said... Let there Be Smut! (well, there are tiny bits of plot in there. A few. Not much. But hey, they're newlyweds.) Believe me, all the 'can't wait for the wedding night' comments are not going ignored. ;) _

* * *

"Wait," Anders said after I unlocked the door to our room. He opened the door and picked me up, setting me back on the ground once we cleared the doorway. "Remember when I tried to carry you up the stairs?" he laughed.

"You nearly burst something halfway there and told me I was heavier than I looked," I said.

"And yet you _still_ went to bed with me? I must be blessed with luck by the Maker himself."

"Must be," I said.

"Oh no," Anders said as the dogs began clamoring for attention. "Out!" They whined and he shook his head. "Don't give me that. This is our wedding night, you two have the very important job of guarding the door. Make sure no one but a Grey Warden can bother us. Got it?" Hearing the word 'important' they both perked up, marching outside and sitting down to guard us proudly. "Good puppies," he said before closing the door, locking it and shoving a chair under the knob. I'd noticed he had taken to doing that whenever we slept anywhere that wasn't the Keep.

"Look at all this," I said, glancing around the room as I picked flowers and ribbons from my hair. Someone, probably Sigrun, had spread flowers all over the bed and left candles everywhere.

"I can't believe Sigrun and Nathaniel managed all this in just a couple hours," Anders said, shaking his head. "We are _really_ going to owe them if they ever get married."

"I know," I laughed. "And I'm doing her makeup in revenge. I think I'll need a trowel to get all this off."

"They did go a bit over the top, didn't they?" he laughed, looking at me. "Don't get me wrong, you look gorgeous. I just didn't recognize you at first. I saw the red lips and cleavage walking down the aisle and thought 'oh wow, when Maggie gets here she's going to freeze this temptress solid!'" I laughed and elbowed him, wiping my face off with a damp cloth.

"You did not," I said.

"No, I didn't," he admitted. "I was relieved you showed up! I had been nervous, you certainly took your time getting there. They were going on about how important you are and how you needed a wedding that fit your 'station' and that didn't help, either!"

"We had to get my branch," I said, gesturing at it leaning against the wall, next to my regular staff Sigrun had returned.

"Of course," he said with a chuckle. "Well, if that's what it took to get you there, you can carry the thing around for the rest of our lives if you want."

"Nah," I said. "It'll start to look pretty rough once all the flowers drop off it."

Anders walked over and held up a glowing hand. "There you go," he said. "One perfectly preserved branch-staff."

I smiled at him and sat on the edge of the bed, stretching. "All right," I muttered, shoving the flowers to the floor. "Pretty, not comfortable." I reached behind myself, fumbling with the laces. "Like this dress, apparently." I glanced over at him. "Care to lend your wife a hand?"

"Hm, can I get you out of your clothes? Let me think," he laughed, clearing the distance between us in two paces before sitting behind me, kissing my neck as he worked on the laces. He chuckled. "You really did look lovely," he said. "But Andraste's Knickerweasels, who _tied_ this thing?"

"Just cut it," I said.

"I'm not _cutting_ you out of your wedding dress, Maggie!"

"It's just a dress," I said. "And don't cut the gown, cut the laces. Laces can be replaced, as if I'd ever wear this again anyways."

"I don't know, it could be quite striking in battle. The blue dress against your pale skin, darkspawn blood splashed across it. Your bosom all… heaving."

"_Heaving_?" I said, cracking up.

"_Definitely_," Anders said. "Like a torrid romance novel from Antiva." He reached around and ran a hand up my thigh, nibbling my neck once more. "See, there it goes again. It's almost hypnotic. I could watch for hours. Well, I have been watching for hours, if I can be completely honest."

"Just get me out of this!" I laughed.

"Fine, fine," he said. I saw a glint of silver and suddenly the pressure on my ribcage eased as the laces unraveled. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the dress off, launching it across the room. A second later I saw Anders' doublet and shirt sail over my head, joining it. "See, this is why we can't have nice things," he laughed.

"I don't know," I said, spinning around and reaching for the laces of his pants once I'd removed the last of my clothes. "You're pretty nice, and I've got you."

"Oh, I am anything _but_ nice," Anders said. "Don't think I've forgotten your lightning trick over dinner, my dear."

I giggled, trailing a sparking finger across his chest. He groaned, head thrown back. "Did you say lightning?"

"That's it," Anders said after a moment, jumping out of my reach and kicking his pants off. "_You_ are really in trouble now." He advanced towards me, lightning crackling around his hands. I giggled and managed to scoot further back on the bed. "Well, if you were going to run, that's the _completely_ wrong direction," Anders said, climbing on the bed and shooting sparks at my feet. He grinned watching me squirm and grabbed one of my ankles, holding my leg in the air as he moved his hand from my foot up the back of my leg.

"Oh, Maker," I groaned when he reached the back of my knee.

"He can't help you now," Anders laughed, running a sparking hand up my leg. "Although," he said, sliding a finger between my legs. "Oh my, I don't think you want any help, do you?" He pushed the finger inside me and sent more sparks flying, this time aimed at my inner thigh, and chuckled feeling my muscles tighten around him. "That is _fantastic_," he said, repeating it. I groaned as the hand was removed so Anders could push my legs further apart. "Patience," he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows to look at me. "You are the _most_ impatient woman I've ever met. Maker's breath, I propose and you've got us married in less than a week! Madness!" I couldn't help but giggle at that. "No wonder I adore you," he said finally, before slipping an arm under each of my legs, pulling them over his shoulders. I gasped as his tongue pressed against me. I'm sure I could hear him chuckle again when I began to squirm after it became clear that he had no intention to actually move it.

"Oh, yesss," I gasped once Anders finally did move his tongue. I wound both hands through his hair, moaning out his name. My muscles jerked and I arched my back, crying out incoherently as light flashed behind my eyes. Dropping back against the pillows I panted for breath and felt the mattress shift as Anders moved.

"You are _horrible,_" he said in my ear. "You kicked me in the back, and then you froze my _hair!_" I opened my eyes and laughed as he shook ice from his head onto the floor. "Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?"

"Pretty much," I said. "Not exactly the first time it's happened, you know."

"And here I was warned things would change if I put a ring on your hand," he said, kissing me. "Well, fair enough, then."

I pulled my way out of his arms and ran an ice-covered finger across his chest. "My turn," I said. He grinned at me and shifted slightly to his back. I ran my hand across his chest, enjoying the feeling of his muscles rippling beneath my frozen fingertips. Teasing one nipple with my mouth, I directed small sparks of lightning at the other, but I couldn't resist pausing to smile up at Anders when he groaned my name before switching sides.

Continuing to work my way down I targeted lightning at his inner thigh, just as he did to mine. "Oh!" I heard him gasp.

"See!" I said.

"Wow," Anders muttered. "Need to do that more often." I did it again on the other leg, while running the tip of my tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip at the same time. He groaned something incoherent, hands tangling themselves in my hair. Realizing what he was not so subtly trying to use my hair to aim me towards I wrapped my lips around him, taking as much in as I could manage. Using the amount of noise I could coax out of Anders to determine speed and pressure I quickly settled on a rhythm. Feeling the muscles in his legs begin to twitch I glanced up without stopping. Anders was watching me intently while biting his lip. I winked at him and he groaned, head falling back to the pillows. "Stop," he gasped after a moment. Of course, my mind translated that as _harder and faster_ instead. I was rewarded by hearing him cry out my name, back arching and hands yanking at my hair.

"You always do that," Anders said as I settled next to him on the pillows, wiping my mouth.

"Do what?" I asked, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Maybe I had something else I wanted to do before… finishing," he said.

"And maybe I like hearing you make that noise too much to give it up," I replied. "Should I get the branch?" I offered with a giggle.

"Yeah," he said, "let's not. Since it will still shoot an arcane bolt at me even if it does work." He stretched on the mattress and wrapped his arms around me. "Besides, I'm a Grey Warden, aren't I? Just give me a few seconds to catch my breath."

"You are," I agreed with a giggle. "You know, I _think_ you might be a noble now, too. Technically."

"_What?"_

I glanced up at him, he'd sat up in bed hearing that. "Well, you're _married_ to a noble, remember?"

He roared with laughter. "Oh, that will just make the Grand Cleric spit fire!"

"Even better," I giggled. "I think, at the very least, you could make people call you Lord Anders. Although that would go against the whole no-titles thing. So, you know, _don't_."

"Lord Anders," he said. "Hmmm… I could get used to that. Until a better title comes along." He chuckled. "I think I would look _fantastic_ in profile on a gold coin, don't you?"

I sat up and leaned into his shoulder. "Absolutely," I agreed. "But you look fantastic in everything." I chuckled. "Or nothing at all, like right now. That's good, too." I ran a fingertip along his collarbone.

"You minx," he chuckled, grabbing my hips and pulling me onto his lap. "What will I do with you?"

"I'm sure you can think of something. You're a very smart man," I said, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He mumbled something in reply, the words muffled by his lips against my throat. Holding on to his shoulders I leaned back and moaned. His mouth moved lower, lips locking around one nipple, and I started to grind my hips into his lap. Anders removed his mouth and grinned up at me. "And _you_ wanted to get the branch," he said. I shifted my weight to my legs, kneeling over him until he could slide into me.

Anders wrapped an arm around my waist, his other hand resting on my cheek. Panting as we moved against each other, he locked his eyes on mine. "Love you," Anders whispered before kissing me.

"Anders," I gasped when our lips parted. "I love you, I… oh… oh, Maker," I moaned, quickly dissolving into incoherence. He held tighter to my waist and slipped a hand between us, rubbing me quickly. I started to move faster on his lap, head lolling back.

"Yes," he gasped, licking and nibbling my neck again as I shuddered. I wound my fingers in his hair and leaned forward, pressing my mouth to his. His tongue pressed into my mouth almost violently. My change in position shifted his hand slightly and I cried out when he started moving his fingers again.

"There!" I gasped. Seconds later it was only his arm around my waist that kept me from falling backwards completely as I shrieked. I fell forward against him, planting kisses on his neck as Anders gripped my hips with both hands, keeping me moving despite my muscles unwillingness to respond. "Love you," I groaned into his ear before running my tongue along the edge and taking the lobe in my teeth. Anders only grunted, fingers digging deeper into me, before gasping out my name.

Covered in sweat, we fell back to the pillows. "There!" Anders said after a moment to catch his breath. "One marriage properly consummated!"

I burst out laughing. "Is that all that was?"

He snorted. "Of course not. But you know me, I like to do things properly. None of that first-night nervous fumbling that's almost over before it's started for me." He pulled the blankets over us, raising a hand towards a group of candles. I smelled magic on the air before they went dark. I did the same with another group and soon they were all out. Unfortunate for the maid that they would be sitting in a puddle of melted ice come morning, but it would have taken an archdemon attack to drag me from bed. Putting out a candle most certainly wouldn't do it. "So," he said as I settled back into his arms, "I feel like I should say something suitably memorable and romantic we can remember forever and mention on our anniversaries." I looked over at him. "But I'm _really _tired." I giggled. I was just as exhausted, we had been up for hours. I could already see the light of dawn peeking around the drapes. "Would I be a horrible husband if I promised something romantic enough to make your knees weak at a later date and just settled for telling you I love you now?"

"Not at all," I said. "I love you, too."

"Good," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

The next day, which was really just later the _same_ day, we woke to pounding on our door.

"Maker's breath," Anders grumbled, climbing out of bed and pulling on a pair of sleeping pants. "This had better be _really _important," he snarled, opening the door.

"Well good morning to you, too, sunshine," Alistair said, his voice unmistakable despite not being able to see him. Even under the blankets I could _hear_ him grin. "Or should I say late afternoon? Where _is_ everyone? I saw a Warden covered in tattoos guarding the prisoners, he said you were here but barely got any other words out. _Where_ did you find that one?"

"He's from an Avvar tribe," Anders said. "And he's hungover."

"I only found you two because of the dogs. They wouldn't even let me knock until they sniffed the life from me." I chuckled at that. Anders had told them only a Grey Warden could interrupt us. Of course they would smell the taint on Alistair, same as any of us. "So you send two people who intercept me for some emergency and throw a _party_?" Alistair said. "You do realize I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon."

"Yeah, you're not the only one," Anders said.

"Alistair, give us a minute to get dressed, we'll meet you downstairs," I called from under the blankets. "Unless you _really _want to have this conversation when I'm naked."

"Um, no," I heard him say. "No, you… you get clothes on. Now. Lots of clothes, and I'll be waiting downstairs, where _no one_ is naked." I heard the door close and Anders laugh.

I sat up, pulling the blankets off my head, and chuckled. "Morning, wife," Anders said, laughing as he climbed onto the bed and kissed me.

"Mmmm," I muttered. "Morning, husband." He kicked off the pants and climbed back under the blankets. "Isn't the king waiting for us?" I mumbled as he ran his hands along my side.

"He can wait," Anders said before clamping his mouth to one breast, fingers toying with the other. I found I wasn't able to counter that statement with anything more coherent than a moan as I pressed myself closer to him. "Besides," he added, between flicks of his tongue, "I figure the more consummated our marriage is," another bite, "the more likely the Chantry is to let us keep it."

"That's… true," I mumbled, gasping as his fingers slid between my legs.

"See?" he said. "Just being practical." He slid two fingers into me and made an appreciative sound. "It seems you agree," Anders chuckled, kissing me as I moved my hips in time with his hand. I couldn't do more than moan as his fingers pumped in and out of me while his thumb stroked in the same rhythm. I reached for him and he slid further back. "Not yet," he whispered. "I'm enjoying watching you, my beautiful bride." He began moving his thumb in slow circles and I groaned out his name, my back arching. "See, like that," Anders went on, his voice low, breath tickling my neck as he curled up next to me. "So gorgeous. Why anyone would want a _blushing_ bride is beyond me." His teeth nipped at my ear and I groaned again. "I much prefer you," he whispered. "Dripping wet. Writhing in pleasure. Groaning my name. My wanton bride. _Much_ better than blushing." I managed a giggle at that and he grinned. "Thought you would like that," he said. My breath was coming in hitching gasps as I moved against him. "Mmm, that close already?" he asked.

"Y- yes," I gasped out. "Don't stop. Please."

"Oh, no worries there," Anders said with a lewd grin. "I want to hear you _scream_." He moved his thumb faster, fingers still plunging into me. I could feel my muscles beginning to tense. "Remember, scream my name," he whispered again before I felt a spell pour from his hand, deep inside me. Every nerve on fire, my back arched and I howled his name, shaking and clinging to the headboard with both hands above my head.

"What?" I gasped after a moment.

"Just a basic rejuvenate spell," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and rolling onto his back. "Targeted very specifically. I've been curious about what it would do. Good?"

"_Very_ good," I said, giggling from my position lying on his chest. "Wow."

"Wow?" Anders said. "I got a wow? I impress even myself sometimes. I'm _awesome._"

"You are," I agreed. "Was that my suitably memorable and romantic thing?"

He burst out laughing. "Andraste's knickers, no. That was _filthy_, not romantic. As soon as I said it I was half-worried you'd slap me!"

I laughed, too. "Actually… it was pretty hot."

"Really?" he said, eyebrow raised. "Hm… well then, being married to you just gets better every day."

"Well, just wait," I said. I shifted my hips slightly, enjoying his gasp as I paused, leaving him pressing against me. He was so hard, and so warm, and it took all my self control to stop. Anders whimpered, trying to push my hips down. "About to get even better," I said finally sliding onto him.

He arched his back and gasped my name. I moaned and leaned back, moving slowly as I savored the feeling of him inside me. My legs were still weak from the effects of his spell and I knew it wouldn't take much to push me over the edge again. Anders must have known this, he looked up at me and grinned before taking my hands in his. He pressed one of my hands to my chest, the other between my legs. "Yes," he moaned as I began to rub myself and roll my nipple between my fingers. "So beautiful," he muttered, grasping my hips and coaxing me faster.

"Love you," I gasped, shuddering and throwing my head back. He groaned, feeling my muscles clench around him. Anders reached up and yanked me towards him, so I was pressed to his chest, before rolling over. On my back, I shifted and wrapped my legs around him. "Harder," I begged, howling when he began pounding into me.

Anders leaned down and began biting my neck, groaning. I shuddered again, nails digging into his back. His teeth clamped down, my skin muffling his shout, before he collapsed on top of me.

"Mmm…" Anders muttered after a moment. "I am really enjoying being married so far."

"Me too," I agreed. "Although there's _no way _Alistair didn't hear that."

"Hey, we're newlyweds, it's expected of us." Anders laughed and climbed out of bed, quickly cleaning up and getting dressed in clean robes. I did the same and we headed downstairs.

Nathaniel and Sigrun were sitting with Alistair and Elissa at a small table, drinking coffee. His guards were at another table, across the room. We pulled up two chairs and steaming mugs were placed in front of us. "Sorry," I muttered. "Took a bit to get ready."

"Apparently," Alistair said. "So, married?"

"Yep," I said, displaying my ring. "Last night." Elissa made a small squeal of delight.

"You know, from what Nathaniel said happened, it might not be valid if she's defrocked," Alistair warned.

"You don't say," Anders replied, sounding annoyed.

"Don't start that now," the queen said to Alistair. "Give them a day to enjoy it at least before the Chantry ruins everything."

"In an hour or so the newspaper in Amaranthine will know, and in a couple days the paper in Denerim," I said. "Weisshaupt will know soon, too. Letters went out this morning. So if she really wants to do that it'll be a very public action." I grinned, seeing the surprise on Alistair's face.

"She won't like that," Alistair said. "She doesn't want the people to think she's anti-Warden."

"Why do you think Maggie wrote the letters," Anders laughed.

"I think two people getting married is the _least_ of her worries," I said. "And to that end, have we found the executioner?"

"He found us," Nathaniel said. "Saw the postings and stopped by the jail to make sure he still had a position. He wore the hood and nearly scared Tobias out of his skin."

I laughed at that image for a moment. "Good," I said finally. "And the gallows?"

"Built," he said.

"You're _really_ going to execute templars? Publicly?" Alistair sounded scandalized.

"If you saw what they did you wouldn't question it," I said. "Have you ever known me to be squeamish in battle? Have you ever seen me _vomit_ because something upset me so much I couldn't take it?" I stared at him. "Once. When we figured out _how_ darkspawn made broodmothers. Well, I vomited seeing this. Right on the floor. I've _never_ seen such brutality."

"It was horrible," Sigrun said. "I didn't think darkspawn were capable of that, much less people." She shuddered at the memory. "Those poor girls…"

"I'm astounded they all survived, to be honest," Anders said. "I didn't expect it when we saw their condition."

"Four mages and twenty hours of work later," I said. Anders nodded. Alistair began to protest again, saying the Chantry would deal with it, when Anders leaned over and began whispering in his ear. I watched the king go pale, then ashen, and straight through to green, while Anders talked, one fist occasionally slamming onto the table for emphasis.

"What?" Elissa demanded. "I'm no Orlesian violet, I deserve to know."

"If you insist," Anders said, walking over and whispering to her. She waved a hand after a moment.

"Sweet Lady of Mercy," she gasped. "You're _not_ exaggerating?" Anders shook his head. "Well, my mind is settled. That _alone_ is enough to warrant a hanging. I don't even need to hear it all to decide."

"All right," Alistair said. "I'm really glad I bumped into your people when we were less than a day from Denerim. I sent them on to get Eamon, he should be here tomorrow. I get the feeling there's no way any of us can resolve this without someone ending up very, very angry."

I nodded, cupping my hands around the mug and trying to think of a solution to our problem. "Maker's breath," Alistair suddenly said. "Your neck is bleeding, Maggie," he said. "What's _wrong_ with you two?"

"Nothing's _wrong_ with us," I said, tilting my head so Anders could heal me.

"Healer, heal thyself," Sigrun giggled when he stood up. "Your back."

I looked over as Anders cast another spell. Eight small red splotches that would almost certainly line up with my fingertips. "Aw, straight through your robes," I said.

"You are _cutting _your nails as soon as we get home," he said. "I love these robes!"

"Me?" I laughed. "Oh yeah, well I love my _neck_."

He chuckled and brushed his fingertips along my throat. "Yeah, so do I."

Alistair shook his head. "I don't want to know. I wish I hadn't even said anything. I just hope the two of you enjoyed… whatever it was you were doing."

* * *

_We now return to our regularly scheduled large scale disasters. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. I'm glad everyone liked the wedding. I tried to give them something suitably Anders and Maggie. I hope everyone enjoyed this filthy interlude as well._


	58. You two make everything look… dirty

I saw Oghren and Jowan turn the corner to join us after a moment. Jowan, seeing the king, immediately doubled back. "I _know_ you're there," Alistair called. "Don't worry, I won't… templar on you." He sheepishly returned to the room, sitting next to, and slightly behind, me.

"_That_ isn't what I was worried about," Jowan said, looking at his lap while wringing his hands. "And, um, I wanted to say I'm sorry again. About your uncle. The Chancellor. Well, you know who I mean. _Really _sorry."

Alistair sighed. "Maggie has explained to me, repeatedly… at length… and _loudly_ that you really didn't have a choice in the matter. Or reason to doubt the _person_ who hired you. So, um… it's… fine. Really." Alistair didn't sound like he thought it was fine at all, but I was glad he made the effort at least to keep the peace. "Although he will be here tomorrow so you may want to… not be here."

Jowan nodded. "That would be for the best, I think."

"See, twitchy, told you it would be fine," Oghren said, hitting Jowan hard enough on the back his coffee spilled.

"Thank you, Oghren," Jowan said drily, wiping coffee from his robes. "So, who wants to change the subject!"

"Everyone," Anders said quickly. I started laughing at that.

"Nathaniel, you're staying since Eamon will be here, right?"

"Right," he said.

"I'd like to head back if you won't need me," Oghren said. "Starting to miss the nugget. And the wife, but don't tell her I said that."

I rolled my eyes at him. "You _should_ tell her that!"

"Eh, she knows," Oghren said. "If I _tell_ her that she'll think I'm feeling guilty for something. What can I say, weddings make me sentimental." Anders looked over at him with disbelief. "What? They do! I'm not allowed to get sentimental once in a while?"

"I've never been to a wedding before," Jowan said. "Well, other than my own. Yours was… more interesting. I didn't have dogs in mine." Alistair and Elissa gave us a look so I explained how Jowan had convinced the dogs to carry part of my dress for me. They both grinned at the idea.

"You two family men head home," I said, laughing. "Give the wives my regards, let the little Maggies know I'm bringing them back some of that candy they like. Let Rose know what's going on here. I'll send a messenger back if anything major happens." I sighed. "Leave everyone else here. I want them guarding the gates, and more on the prison, in shorter shifts. Only residents, Wardens, and the royal guard can carry weapons in the city right now."

"The templars already here?" he asked.

"The ones with the Revered Mother? Let's consider them residents." He raised an eyebrow but nodded at that. "Has Weisshaupt…?"

"Of course not," I said. "It'll be weeks before they even get my letter. But…" I shrugged. "I think I know how they'll respond, _if_ they respond. Right now the Chantry is making life difficult for the Wardens. They could refuse to let us enter the Circle to recruit, they still _want_ us to turn all mages over to their control, it's only because we're public and popular that they don't. When the blight's a memory and I'm long dead, well, what happens to the mages in the order?"

He seemed to think about that for a moment. "Maggie's right," Sigrun said before he could reply. "Once people stop caring about darkspawn they'll be at our throats. If we have to pick sides this is the side that helps us." Her face was grim. "I don't care about surface religions, neither side means a thing to me beyond one making our lives miserable for years and trying to take people away from us, and the other doing nothing but nice things for us." She shrugged. "It doesn't seem like a difficult choice."

Nathaniel nodded in agreement. "They've done too much to make themselves our enemy. Admitting we only have a truce because they can't get public support to move on us doesn't exactly make me feel secure, and the thought of having to do this job without the benefit of a healer nearby makes my blood run cold."

We all nodded in agreement with that.

Elissa, who had looked thoughtful for some time, spoke up. "So you're saying… all templars are addicted to this lyrium?" she asked.

Alistair nodded. "It starts after you take vows, so I never was. They say it makes you more powerful, but really it's about control."

"Mages also use lyrium," Anders explained. "It helps replenish our energy after we've been casting spells a long time. Not in the quantities they do, though. They take more daily than I would in battle."

"And when deprived of it they… go mad?"

"They go mad regardless," he said. "Forty, fifty years and the addiction catches up to them. But yes, withdrawal will do it faster."

"Well, this is completely unacceptable," she said, folding her arms. "This is a disaster waiting to happen. What will we do if relations darken with Orzammar, or the supply simply dries up? We can't have thousands of well-armed well-trained men wandering Ferelden with the potential to go mad if they're deprived of a drug." She looked at her husband. "Alistair, you _must_ see this is wrong."

"Chantry business isn't our business, though," he said. "It is wrong, but what can we do."

"We can tell them the templars are not welcome in our nation while they continue this!" she exclaimed.

"There's no cure," he said.

"Actually, I cured Ronan's addition," Anders said. "Gradually decreased his dose over a long period of time. It wasn't easy but it worked." He chuckled. "And there's Revered Mother Moira."

"The heretic?" Aistair said, shocked. "What did she do?"

"One of the templars loyal to her said she prayed to the Maker to release them from their addition and it worked," I said, chuckling.

Alistair snorted. "You don't believe that, do you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. It's no more absurd than some of what I've seen in my life. And they're not addicted anymore, I can tell you that much. I can smell lyrium, and they don't smell of it." He made a face and I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure there's more to it than that. I just haven't had a chance to ask her yet."

"Huh," was all he managed. "So, what are you doing about her?"

"Her?" I said. "I'm not doing a damned thing. She's the nicest priest I've ever met, everyone in the city loves her, and as far as I'm concerned she's practically a hero. It wasn't just apostates and their families she took in. When the templars started turning this city into their personal playground she welcomed anyone who could get to the Chantry in to keep them safe."

"When we were healing those women she sat with us praying the whole time, and spent quite a bit of time with a few of them after consoling them," Anders added. "In addition to, you know, being the only priest in Ferelden willing to perform our marriage."

"Oh!" I said. "You know who she has with her? Knight-Commander Tavish, from Denerim, and Bann Alfstanna brother, Ser Irminric, the one we saved from Howe's dungeon. And Ser Bryant, from Lothering. Remember him?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget the man who told us we were suddenly wanted for treason and regicide," Alistair said. "He was nice, though. The supplies he slipped us helped. Could have lived without hearing you and Morrigan going on about his backside."

"Hey now," I said. "None of that bawdy talk. I'm a married woman." Alistair snorted with laughter. "So no, I'm not going to do anything. As far as I'm concerned she's just fine. And I'm curious if I could get away from banning all templars who aren't from her group from the Banneron entirely. No one in this city will trust them again, believe me."

"You can't do that, Maggie," Alistair said.

"Hm," I replied, folding my arms. "Let's see what Eamon says when he gets here."

"Oh great," Alistair grumbled. "You've been talking to Eamon." I suspected the plan was more Eamon than Alistair, and this was confirmation. I didn't think it was any major disagreement on Alistair's part, though. Simply his natural urge to avoid conflict showing itself.

"I have," I said. "He has some fantastic ideas."

"I'm sure you think so," he said drily.

"Actually, so do I," Elissa said. "The whole thing is absurd. We can't ask mages to join the army without some priest's permission, we let people's children be snatched from their arms, and we answer, ultimately, to _Orlais_ of all places. You're a direct descendent of Calenhad, elected by the Landsmeet, and yet you have to get some old bat's permission to recruit for the army? Permission she denies you? It's a slap in the face of the nation! After all our fathers fought for and suffered to free us, after all _you_ fought for to save us from the blight? Unacceptable!" She slammed a fist on the table before crossing her arms again. From the look on Alistair's face this wasn't the first time they'd had this discussion. "Would you like to know what I think?" Elissa went on.

"I'm sure you'll tell us," he quipped. She spun in her chair, shooting a glare at him. "Woah, kidding, kidding," Alistair said, hands raised. "Please, tell them what you think. I'll even bet three sovereign Maggie agrees."

She rolled her eyes at him, a small indulgent smile playing on her lips before turning to us. "I think they're afraid of you," she said, pointing at Anders and me. "Since you're living proof they've been lying to all of us about how dangerous mages are for centuries. I think the Divine keeps quiet since she knows- _knows_ the Chantry should never have been based in Orlais to begin with, and is terrified that will be the next rallying cry. Andraste was as much a Fereldan as any of us. Her ashes are here, the Maker spoke to her here. Why is her church not based here?" She shook her head. "A Chantry of Ferelden, loyal to the throne, and true to Andraste's words. No slavery, not of mages or anyone. That is what we need, and that's what the Divine fears! They call us barbarians, but that's only because they don't want the world to realize the truth."

"Does the Chantry run Ferelden?" Anders said. "I was always taught power came from the freeholders up, supporting the banns, arls and teyrns, who in turn support the king. Priests don't come into it at all."

"Oh Maker," Alistair muttered. "Let's just save this for when Eamon gets here."

"Well, if he arrives tomorrow it will be just in time for the hanging. I've already got my speech written."

Alistair sighed. "Look, I know why you're doing it. For what they did… nothing else would really fit the crime. But does it have to be so public? At this point it's like you're flaunting things in the Chantry's face."

"Who cares?" Anders snapped. "The Chantry knows things like that happen to women who they capture as apostates. Damn it, it's happened to girls in the tower! The lyrium just made them direct it at normal women instead of mages, and no one seems to care if some village healer gets beaten and brutalized within an inch of her life before they chop her head off. Let's flaunt it and show people what they really are."

Jowan and I shared a quick glance. I shrugged and waved my hand. "It's true," he said. "I knew women in the mages' collective who could tell stories that would freeze your blood." He made a face. "And there was one time in the tower, a few weeks before Maggie's harrowing…" Anders' head snapped towards me, eyebrow raised.

"Templar caught us drinking in a storeroom," I said. "Launched a smite and grabbed me. When Jowan tried to stop him he pushed him down and kicked him in the ribs. A bunch of them broke so he couldn't get up. If Irving and Greagoir hadn't happened to be right there walking by to hear me cursing a blue streak when he started ripping my robes…" I made a face. "And I wouldn't have even been the first victim," I added. "There was a girl in the infirmary who couldn't do anything but sob since she met him. She couldn't even say who it was since he left his helm on the whole time. Ended up killing herself later on." Anders put an arm around me, rage clear on his face.

"We listened in to Irving and Greagoir after," Jowan said. "Hid around a corner from them. Irving wanted him gone, Greagoir said they would move him somewhere out of the way. Brutalized some girl, tried to do the same to Maggie, and his only punishment would be getting transferred to some Chantry in the hinterlands."

"Maker's breath," Alistair muttered. "I must not have gotten _those_ classes when I was in training."

"I doubt its official policy," I said. "Just something people realize they can get away with later on, and the Chantry does nothing to discourage it." I shrugged. "Treating mages as less than human only makes it worse, since they can do things like… _that_ and pretend it isn't a real person screaming in pain."

"Have you been giving them lyrium since?" Alistair asked.

Anders snorted. "We don't _have_ any. Used it all healing their victims. I swear, Maggie drank so much just so she could keep our stamina up and take all the side effects herself that she's still sweating blue."

Something passed between Elissa and Alistair. She stared at him, her eyebrows raised. A moment later he sighed and nodded, and she smiled, returning the nod. I had no idea what that was about, but figured if they wanted us to they would have said something out loud. We all turned, their silent exchange forgotten, when the front door of the inn opened. It had remained undisturbed due to a small sign tacked up since we arrived, "closed for private engagement."

The Revered Mother poked her head in before entering the room. "Oh! Your Majesties," the shocked priest said, immediately dropping to one knee.

"Please, Your Reverence," Elissa said, flashing her a brilliant smile. "Join us. It's good to see you're well."

"I actually only stopped by to drop off a present for the newlyweds," she said, taking a seat at our table. "Ser Charles drew this for you. He wasn't sure if you remembered him from your tower days, but he wanted to give you a wedding gift."

"I remember him," I said, accepting the rolled up bundle. "He watched one of my classes. Whenever I made a joke or smart comment he'd start coughing to hide that he was laughing at it." I unrolled the paper and held it up. "Wow," I muttered. It was a drawing of us yesterday, grinning at each other like fools, dressed in our fancy clothes. It didn't have a ton of detail, but he'd still managed to capture Anders' smirk perfectly. I could barely recognize myself between the hair, makeup and clothes, but it was clearly my face under it all.

"That's amazing," Anders said. "Please tell him we said thank you."

"He's quite an artist," she said. "It seems like hardly an hour can go by before someone is begging him to draw them or their child."

I showed it to everyone else, they all made sounds of appreciation. "So someone actually got you into a ballgown _and_ makeup," Alistair said. "And with your hair all done with flowers?"

"Sigrun did," I said, gesturing across the table. "We were just going to go over in our robes, something quick and quiet. In a couple hours those two managed to pull a whole actual wedding together, though."

"And when the family who runs the inn found out what we were up to they pulled a big meal together for everyone and decorated the whole room," Anders added. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I've never felt so… normal. It was nice." He shook his head before turning his attention to the Revered Mother. "I have to ask," Anders said. "_How_ did you cure the templars of their addiction? Ser Irminric said you _prayed_ it away."

She laughed at that. "Goodness," Moira said. "Well, I'm a _priest_, I pray for _everything_. But no, that isn't all. One of the mages who came to us helped me come up with a process, actually. She had been addicted herself at one point. She said the actual pain of quitting will pass in a week or two, but for most people they'll go mad long before that time is up if they simply… stop." Anders nodded in agreement. "But… if they're not awake they can't hurt themselves or anyone else. She put them to sleep, just like you did with those poor young women. I made sure they got water and fed them broth myself, and when we woke them up after two weeks they were starving and weak, but no longer addicted, and not in the least bit mad. Irminric knows that, but he prefers to think the prayer we said together before did most of the work."

"That's a brilliant plan," Anders said. "I don't know if I would have used it for Ronan since it didn't take much longer to wean him off the stuff just by reducing his dose gradually, but I'll remember it for future reference." He glanced at her, clearly embarrassed by whatever he was about to ask. "The templars, they _know_ this is how, right? They don't all think its praying?"

"Oh no, it was explained to all of them," she assured him. "I don't think it would be honest otherwise." She lowered her voice. "Ser Irminric is a good man, with a good heart, but I don't know if he's ever fully recovered from his ordeal during the blight. He's firmly convinced the Commander was sent to him as a sign from the Maker that he had to fight for mages' freedom. I normally wouldn't question another's faith in the Maker, but he thinks this in a very _literal_ sense. Not that because it was a mage who helped him he should help mages, but that the maker created her and sent her there at that moment specifically to tell him this. He didn't believe Ser Charles knew her from the tower simply because he has trouble accepting she's a real person, not a… vision of some kind." She sighed. "He doesn't speak of it often, and no one would suspect anything was amiss otherwise. I suspect seeing her again has helped reinforce what we've told him, thankfully. He was thrilled to hear news of his sister."

"Bann Alfstanna," I explained to everyone but Alistair. "He knew she had a new 'gentleman' in her life, but not who, and was worried it wasn't an appropriate match."

"She does?" Elissa said. "I had no idea."

"I did," Alistair said, clearly enjoying knowing a bit of gossip his wife was missing out on. "Didn't hear from her, though. I got it from the other half."

"This is the woman from our party before their wedding?" Sigrun asked. I nodded. "Oh, I saw her with that other man from the wedding, the one who stood with Alistair. With the braid? They're very cute together."

"Braid?" Elissa said. "Oh! Teagan!" She grinned at that. "Oooh! Well _done_, Alfstanna! He's a good catch."

I passed the Revered Mother a small purse of coins. "For yesterday," I said. Even I knew enough to realize most people gave a fairly generous donation to the Chantry when they were married. She objected but gave in after Anders and I both insisted.

"Can I ask something of Your Majesties," the priest said, sounding nervous.

"Certainly," Alistair said. "Although if we agree or not depends on what you ask."

She nodded. "Well, two of the young women who were… injured have decided to pledge their lives to the Maker. I was hoping when you return to Denerim they could accompany your group? Given the current circumstances I'm not sure if I should allow them to take vows under me, although they asked to. I've talked to them at length, they both understand the gravity of the decision."

"We're not continuing on to Denerim," Elissa said. "But the Chancellor will be, he should be here in a day. I don't see why he would object, should such a thing even prove necessary." She cast another pointed glance at Alistair.

"Let's wait and see what the next few days bring before we decide on anything," Alistair said ambiguously.

Most of us returned to our rooms once she left. After I brushed my hair out properly, removing more bits of flowers, I went to the room Jowan had been staying in. He was sitting on the edge of the bed carefully transferring folded items into his pack. "Hey," I called from the door. He looked over and smiled. "I just wanted to thank you before you left. For yesterday. I think I'd still be standing on the steps doubled over in fear."

"I'm glad I could be there," he said as I sat next to him.

"Me too," I said. "I missed you. It always felt wrong, having adventures without you."

"Having adventures? Most people call it risking their lives." He laughed, though. "But yeah. For years I wished I'd grabbed your arm and just pulled you from the tower with me when I ran."

"We'd both be dead, then," I said. "They would have used my phylactery to find us both."

"True. And now, we're both alive."

"And having adventures!"

"Poor Anders," he said, laughing. "But he knew what he was getting into with you. He told me the day you met you were running through the keep laughing while killing darkspawn and cheering when they fell."

"So… like every time we fight darkspawn, then?"

"Pretty much," Jowan admitted. "Lucky for you, though. He said if you weren't so… 'disturbingly cheerful' he would have taken off at a run the second he saw you slice yourself open."

"Can't really blame him for that."

"No, not really," Jowan agreed. "Do you ever regret learning…?"

"No," I said quickly. "It's kept us alive so many times. Not just me, everyone."

He nodded. "I know it definitely falls under 'any means necessary,' and I've seen you use it to save lives. I just wonder sometimes if we might be, well, damned because of it."

"Maybe," I admitted. "I think about it sometimes. I can't see why we would be, though. I know it's what they say, but we're not bad or anything. We're not hurting innocents or manipulating people." I shrugged. "I think the Maker would understand. I mean, the chant doesn't specify blood magic anywhere, anyways. Maleficar are mages who use magic against the Maker's children, not mages who use a specific sort of magic."

"I hope so," Jowan said. "When did you get so theological?"

"I found Andraste's ashes," I reminded him. "Touched them myself. Saw them cure someone. After that… how could I not believe?" I laughed. "And then I had to figure out a way to live with myself at the same time." He seemed to consider that for a moment. "Anyways, go home to your family. I'm pretty sure Eamon knows I let you go, but I'd rather not address it directly. I need him on my side now. I'll send a message back if we go to war."

"It… should scare me how casually you say that."

"But it doesn't?"

"No, not really. Kind of exciting, actually."

"Ha!" I said, pointing at him. "I knew you'd be one of us in no time!" I left him chuckling as he finished his packing.

Glad I brought an obscene sum of money with me, I tried to arrange to rent the entire inn for the rest of the week. It turned out Alistair had already taken care of that. "Your Majesty," I bellowed across the room. He looked up from where he was sitting alone reading a book as I walked over. "Why did you do that? You're using, what, two rooms? Let the Wardens pay, we're filling the whole inn!"

"What? Why would I do that? It's not my money, anyways. It's out of the treasury."

"And it's not my money, either. It's out of our treasury. Which is far less taxed than yours, I might add."

He rolled his eyes so I leaned over and whispered a number in his ear. "You're kidding," Alistair coughed out after he stopped choking on his coffee.

"Nope. In Antivan gold coins, no less." I laughed. "Of course, Varel and Nathaniel keep a close eye on me to make sure I'm not buying gold trimmed collars for the dogs or anything."

"Would you?" he laughed. "Wait, no, you might. I remember when we finally got our hands on some money, you had everyone in new armor in less than a week, including Dane."

"That dragonbone armor I got you was fantastic, don't even complain. Master Wade made it!"

"I like splintmail."

I made a face at him. "I liked not having to drag your unconscious body around Ferelden because splintmail is only marginally more protective than leather. You're heavy."

He waved me off. "Twice that happened! You make it sound like a weekly occurrence."

"Three times!" I said, elbowing him. "When we fought those two ogres in the woods, in Haven, and in the Deep Roads. That one scared me senseless. Morrigan and I didn't know what to do, neither of us were decent healers." I shook my head. "Scary. And I nearly got stabbed, too, because just before you passed out you muttered 'new tactic… bite… ankles' and I started laughing!"

He roared at that. "Did I? That's clever. Especially for me!"

"I know! Even Morrigan snickered."

"I think she may have laughed to see me injured, not because of anything I said."

"Maybe," I agreed. "You were right about her, you know."

He nodded. "Oghren told me about her little plan. I didn't want to rub it in." I raised an eyebrow. "What?" Alistair demanded. "I can be tactful sometimes."

"Who taught you that?" I said, laughing.

"Certainly not you," he replied.

Oghren and Anders returned to the main room, followed by Jowan a moment later. I gave them both a hug, thanking them again for yesterday before they left. "What about me?" Anders said.

I threw my arms around his neck. Anders responded by picking me up off the ground, arms looped under my backside so I could hook my legs around his waist, before he kissed me, causing Alistair to clear his throat theatrically and mutter "audience here!"

"You know, if one kiss is enough to embarrass you we may need to have a chat," Anders mused after setting me down. "Something about the duties of a husband with regard to keeping his wife happy. And where babies come from. See, that potion I gave you to improve the chances of their being a royal heir will only work if you're actually—"

"I know where babies come from!" Alistair snapped. "And kissing is fine. Somehow you two make everything look… dirty."

"If you think that's dirty you should have seen her this morning," Anders said. "She was—"

"Woah, that's enough. I order you as king to stop talking now!"

"Grey Wardens bow to no king!" Anders exclaimed. Alistair only rolled his eyes at both of us.

* * *

_Why hello there Anne Boleyn, is that a William Tyndale pamphlet in your pocket? Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Glad everyone enjoyed the smut-fest that was their wedding night! ;)  
_


	59. This isn't like the templar armor again?

"Come on," I said. "We need to pay for our rings still. Sigrun got them on loan last night. She returned the others but we need to go pay for the ones we kept. And I want to find out where she got that dress and how much it was so I can pay her back."

Alistair put a hand out to stop us. "Just… think about what I said. Doing this publicly sends a huge message, the Chantry won't be able to ignore it. Given the situation I'm fairly sure we could pacify them with a private execution, but not something in the town square."

"_You_ made me a noble," I reminded him. "These people count on me to protect them. I have to show I'm willing to make criminals pay for hurting them. I have to make sure everyone knows I put the safety of this city before politics and religion." Alistair sighed again and I made a face at him. "And secret executions? Where are we, Amaranthine City or Val Royeaux? This is Ferelden, we don't do that here. It's wrong. If I did it in secret it would be like…" I waved my hand, trying to explain. "It would be like I thought I had something to hide, like I knew I was doing something wrong. I'm not."

"They're the ones who waited until the local lord and everyone who would normally fill in were out of town for the royal wedding before striking," Anders pointed out. "Kind of… suspicious, isn't it? Awfully strange coincidence at the very least. Not that I believe in coincidences."

"All right, all right," Alistair said, dropping the subject for now.

We left, heading to the jewelers first. He inspected both of our rings, looking something up in a ledger. "I don't have these listed as being enchanted," he said.

"No, we did that ourselves," I said. Mine had turned out to be for basic healing spells. He told us an amount after we both slipped the rings back on, something that sounded suspiciously low for how many gems were in each ring, and I handed over the coin.

"Look," Anders said after we left the shop. Tacked into the bottom of the front window was a small line drawing of the two of us clipped from a paper. Written above it was the legend "Shop where Ferelden's favorite mages bought their wedding rings!"

"Well, now I don't feel so bad about how little he charged us," I said, shaking my head.

"Are we Ferelden's favorite mages?" he mused.

"Well, we're probably the only mages most people know by name," I said. "That makes us the favorite by default."

"And the least favorite," he laughed.

Finding where Sigrun bought the dress wasn't difficult. I just had to find the shop with a new sign in the window. "Seamstress for the Hero of Ferelden's Wedding Gown," one window exclaimed, with the same line drawing. The woman inside was hesitant to tell us what Sigrun had paid her. "In truth, Commander… that dress had been sitting on a shelf for years so I practically gave it away. Made it for the late Queen Rowan. Maker bless her, she never got a chance to pick it up. Hasn't fit anyone with a mind to wear it since, she wasn't one of those frail ladies of the court, not after all her years holding a sword." I almost laughed. Twice now I'd ended up in a dress made for Queen Rowan. I wondered if her dressmaker had chided her about the size of her arms, too.

"I want to pay my friend back, though," I explained. "I didn't expect her to do that, and she used her own money." She finally told me and I managed not to choke in the middle of the shop.

"That seemed… expensive," Anders muttered after we left. "My most expensive robes were half that, and they're so enchanted they practically glow."

"It was," I said. "I paid a quarter of that for the last dress I had made, and it was fancier. She didn't give Sigrun a deal, she robbed her blind."

"Probably knew she was in a rush and wouldn't find anything else in town that would fit properly and was already made," Anders mused.

I made a face and we walked on, hand in hand, towards the open market district. Several people stopped us on the way to wish us well. It seemed the paper found out about the wedding almost as it happened and ran a story even before they received my letter. I grabbed a few copies from a young boy who was selling them. After stopping to buy candy for Oghren and Jowan's daughters I pulled us into another stall. "What are you doing?" Anders said, watching me grab items.

"I have an idea," I said, paying for my purchases.

"And suddenly I'm afraid," he muttered as we walked back to the inn.

Once we returned to our room I dumped the bag of items out. "Put this on," I said, shoving a set of leather armor at him.

"You're _kidding_, right?" Anders said, eyeing it. "This is the worst armor I've ever seen. It looks like it's been in a ditch for fifty years! What is it, _rat_ leather?"

"That's the point," I said, tossing my robes aside and pulling on my new dress. It was a painfully hideous shade of green, reminiscent of an infected wound, and appeared to be made out of something that was a close cousin of the burlap sacks the cooks used to store rice and potatoes at the Keep.

"You look like a fishwife," he said, glancing at me.

"Good," I said, tucking my hair under a kerchief. "That's the plan."

He shook his head and pulled the armor on. I quickly did up the buckles and yanked out the tie holding his hair back before shoving an equally battered helmet on him. "I look like… some kind of ruffian," he muttered, glancing in the mirror.

After hiding my daggers in my dress I handed him one of the broadswords we'd taken from the templars. It was very plain, but serviceable. His armor covered his hands, but mine were bare. I dug through the bag until I could find a pair of rough women's gloves I'd bought. I could go without, but my rings were fancy enough to cause a raised eyebrow if anyone noticed them, and I had no intention of taking them off. "So will you be sharing your plan with me?"

"We're just going to walk around," I said. "Listen in, blend in. See what people are saying."

"See where their loyalties fall," Anders concluded.

"Exactly," I smiled. "I'll happily fight templars at the gates to keep them out, but if the whole city just wants their normal mage-hating Chantry back I won't stand against it and start a war." He made a face at me. "It _really_ isn't Warden business," I reminded him. "Sure it would make our lives easier. But so would conscripting half the knights of Ferelden. Doesn't mean we should do that, either."

"Fine, fine," he said. "And here I was getting excited we might go down in history."

"I'm sure we will already," I laughed. "And don't let go of your hopes yet. Let's see what people are talking about outside." I handed him a pouch of coins, all in silvers and coppers. I'd had enough people tell me the price of something and then look to Alistair for payment, or hand him the change even after the coin came right from my purse, to realize men usually handled the money among normal people.

We stepped out of our room, bumping into Sigrun in the hall. She did a double take before bursting out laughing. "Have we been here too long? Have you two gone native?" Her eyes narrowed. "This isn't like the time I walked in and caught Anders in the templar armor, is it?" I turned red and insisted that no, it was _nothing_ like that time, stressing once again that knocking before walking into someone's locked bedroom instead of trying out your new lockpicks is wise, even if it is the middle of the afternoon. She rolled her eyes and I explained my plan to her. "Oh, that sounds like fun," she said. "Stone knows you won't get an honest word from anyone if they know who you are. Let me know what happens!"

"And you wonder why I shove a chair under our doorknob," Anders said as we went downstairs.

Alistair, Elissa, and Nathaniel all stared when they saw us. "This isn't like the templar armor again, is it?" Nathaniel asked, clearly trying not to laugh. I had to make a point of killing Sigrun later.

"No," I snapped. "We're going to see if we can figure out what people around town are saying. They won't speak freely if they recognize us."

"No worries of that happening," he said, a chuckle escaping. "Where did you _find_ that armor?" I rolled my eyes. It was cheap, sure, but it wasn't much worse than what Leliana had worn for months because that was the best we could afford. And that was the point!

"Not sure if you realized this, but most people, they can't afford dragonwing," I said.

"All right, all right," he said. "Well, hopefully you'll hear something more useful to us than the latest gossip about your own wedding." I groaned inwardly. He was right, that probably was the most popular topic of discussion at the moment.

We slipped out the door and quickly headed down the street and around a corner, sitting on a bench. Two women were planting flowers outside a house not far from us.

_"— got married last night."_

_"I can read the paper as well as you can. I say about time. Set a bad example, it did, carrying on with that other Warden brazen as anything when the little ones all look up to them."_

_"You ever get a look at him? I can't blame her for carrying on, that's for sure. You, me and every lady in town would do the same." _Anders chuckled next to me, I elbowed him. _"Can't imagine finding a priest was easy for them, though, both being mages like they are."_

_"True enough, they probably jumped on the first chance they saw. That Bess down the block said it was in poor taste of them, getting married when the whole city's fallen apart. Dancing in the ashes, she said."_

_"Bess is a bitter old witch who won't even let the kids play without yelling for quiet. Besides, they probably wanted to rush, make sure they got it done before the Chantry swoops in and takes our Revered Mother to task. Seems they wanted to keep it quiet, why else do it in the middle of the night?"_

_"Think they'll try again?"_

_"I doubt they'd just let her be. You know how they get. Everyone's got to know they're in charge. Even the king has to dance to their tune."_

_"Ha! And here I thought we were free from Orlais…" _We listened for a little while longer until the topic changed to their children and husbands before moving on.

A group of men were standing around looking at one of the notices for the hanging tomorrow. We walked up to them. "Well, I heard from Hob that his sister in law's daughter was one of the girls those maniacs took. She said they…" he trailed off, seeing us, and whispered something to Anders, who nodded.

Turning to me Anders gestured to a market stall. "Go on ahead," he said. "I'll catch up." I stared at him blankly. "This topic isn't suitable for a lady's ears," he said, catching my confusion, and obviously trying very hard to keep his face straight. "Go on."

"Of course," I said, turning and biting my lip in annoyance as I wandered a distance away, wishing I could still hear them. Instead I examined bolts of linen at a nearby market stall, as though I had the slightest clue about what made them all different. The shopkeeper tried to talk up the finer aspects of the most expensive bolt. "I'll have to wait for my husband," I said, relieved to have an excuse not to continue the conversation and admit my ignorance on fabric weaves. I gestured over to the group of men. I could see Anders speaking with them. One gestured to me and clapped him on a shoulder after Anders replied.

"Oh, of course," he said. "Everyone's been all abuzz about the hanging."

I nodded. "I've never heard of anyone hanging templars," I said, fishing for a response.

"Me neither, but I say about time. Why should they be above the law?"

"True," I agreed. "I always figured the Chantry would… deal with their problems themselves."

He shook with a good natured laugh. "Aw, lass, when they do that it just means they move the problem somewhere else and let another city deal with it. About time," He repeated. "That Warden Commander, she's not one to let them walk all over her. They did right, putting a real Ferelden girl like her in charge. She won't bow to any priest in Val Royeaux!"

I nodded in agreement, trying to keep from grinning. Remembering what the two women had said about their neighbor's reaction I said "I heard she just got married."

"Aye, right here in Amaranthine," he said. "That'll send the Chantry a message about whose side she's on, that's for sure!" He gave another laugh at that, as though it was the best news in the world. "Saw the happy couple just a few hours ago, too," he said proudly. "They walk around just like normal folk whenever they're in the city. You might catch a glimpse of them. He's a mage too, and they both always dress the part, like they want everyone who sees them to remember. They do their own shopping, stop in the Chantry, always have a smile or word for anyone who stops them." Who else would do my shopping? Sure, I didn't exactly come down and buy produce for the Keep, but I certainly couldn't send someone to pick out a new staff for me. He must have misread my expression. "Probably all them years locked in that horrible tower, I'd take any chance to be out among people after years of that, too."

"Can't blame them for that," Anders said, walking up and clearly enjoying his new role. "I hear it's a terrible place. Only way a child of mine would end up there is over my dead body."

"Here here," said the shopkeeper. "Hopefully King Alistair will make some changes. His Majesty has to know the Chantry hasn't been truthful about those mages, everyone says he and the Warden Commander have been thick as thieves since the blight. Treats her like a sister of his own blood, they say, even being raised by the Chantry like he was." That started him on Alistair, who he alternately referred to as "Good King Alistair" or "King Alistair the Brave." Not wanting to take up so much of his time without a purchase I ended up with two yards of a blue linen fabric before we moved on.

"What will you do with that?" Anders asked.

"Not a clue," I admitted. "Maybe it would look nice on that table in our sitting room at home?" I shrugged. "I just didn't want to take up so much of his time without buying something." I told him about the rest of the conversation.

"Sorry for sending you off like that," Anders said.

"Hey, we're supposed to be acting normal," I said. "Don't worry."

"If it makes you feel any better the locals all said I had a fine looking wife. And then they went on about the Warden Commander. Apparently she's _quite_ the looker. Especially in those short robes." I giggled at that, elbowing him. "I'm serious," he said. "It was all I could do not to say something!" He told me about the rest of their conversation. They actually didn't realize how serious the women's injuries were, from what they said, and still thought the men deserved to hang. Apparently the men also hoped we would just lock the gates if the Chantry came calling again, being perfectly happy with the priest and templars already here. They were, according to local opinion, far less likely to kidnap anyone's children and rape their daughters. "They think it's an Orlesian plot," Anders said finally.

"_How_?" I said, not seeing any connection.

He shrugged. "Something about discrediting mages, and thus _you_, which would be bad for Ferelden. I didn't think it made much sense, either, but you know how people _love_ blaming Orlais."

We went into a small tavern advertising a dinner special. "This is kind of fun," Anders said as we waited for our food to arrive. "No one's giving us a second glance." I had to agree with that. The food was good, although no one was saying anything interesting. Mostly talk of families, crops, fishing boats, and livestock. Someone commented on the Crown and Lion being closed as we were finishing our meals.

"I hear that's where the Wardens are staying while they fix all this Chantry mess," someone said.

"Leave it to them," someone else said. "They show up and everything's back to normal by nightfall. Those bastards didn't know whose city they were messing with!" Everyone cheered to that. The crowd had rapidly been changing from late-evening diners to early drinkers as we sat there. It led to several more cheers, for the Wardens, for the King, for the Revered Mother, and even one for our wedding, hoping we would have plenty of strong babies. Anders and I glanced at each other and grinned, but still joined in, not wanting to be the only people in the room keeping quiet. However, the level of conversation soon dropped even lower. One man insisted loudly to his friends that he wished he had a chance to shown me what a "real man" could do before I'd married that "fellow in a dress." That led to lots of vocal speculation about mages and what we might do differently behind closed doors. I pulled Anders from the room quickly, watching his jaw tense and realizing it was only a matter of time before our disguises were wrecked by his temper.

"One bolt of lightning wouldn't have hurt," he said as we walked back to our own inn. "Disgusting bastard."

"He's just some local drunk," I said.

"Even so, that's my wife he's talking about!" We were still laughing at the strangeness of that statment as we walked into the Crown and Lion.

"We're closed!" the bartender called, quickly rushing over to push us from the room.

"It's us," I said, pulling the kerchief off my head.

"Oh!" he said, surprised now that he actually looked at our faces. "Hardly recognized you, Commander."

"That was the goal," I said as we sat down with the others, who were eating dinner themselves. At the same table as Alistair, Elissa, Sigrun, and Nathaniel, Anders and I quickly told them what we'd heard in the city.

"So," Elissa said finally, "no one was speaking in favor of the Chantry? Well, the Chantry outside this city, at least?"

"Not that I heard," I said. "There may have been in another tavern. For all I know we wandered into a strangely anti-Chantry establishment." She snorted with disbelief.

"No one recognized you?" Alistair asked, surprised. "Not even sitting in a tavern for a couple hours?"

"Nope," I said. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me.

"Let's say… if they did recognize us, something has to be done about the number of absolute _idiots_ living in this city," Anders said. "Since the common reaction to seeing the newly-married Warden Commander and her mage husband wouldn't be to detail a number of very inappropriate fantasies involving her."

"And you _didn't_ hit them with lightning?" Nathaniel said, shocked. "I thought you lived for moments like that."

"Maggie wouldn't let me. Said it would ruin the disguises."

He laughed. "Marriage has already changed you, apparently."

"Oh, it has not!" Anders said. "She always orders me around. Keeps saying something about being the commanding officer." He laughed at that before reaching across the table for a piece of bread out of the basket.

"Didn't you just eat?" Alistair said.

"Grey Wardens," I replied helping myself to a bowl of fish stew.

"Funny, I never need _two_ dinners," Alistair said. "I think Oghren's right, you are just pigs." He blinked. "I cannot _believe_ the words 'I think Oghren's right' just passed my lips."

"Am not," I said, dipping bread into the stew.

"True. Pigs usually stop eating long enough to breathe between bites." He laughed and scooted his chair just far enough that I couldn't reach without standing.

"I'll get you for that," I said. "Later." The food was _really_ good, after all. I could punch Alistair any time; stew would only be hot for a little while longer.

After dinner Anders went out to scout down some lyrium potions and Elissa took a contingent of her personal guards so she could attend evening services at the Chantry. Alistair and I were left alone, or mostly alone because his ever present silent guards were there, in the common room.

"Is this where you set me on fire for calling you a pig?" he asked.

"Nah," I replied. "Too tired. Barely slept last night."

"_Don't_ need to know," he said, waving a hand.

"Calm down. It's just because of the wedding itself. The ceremony wasn't until about two in the morning, and then we all ate a very late dinner. Or early breakfast. It was almost dawn by the time we made it to bed."

"Heh," he said, shaking his head. "Look at you, all _married._ And me, too! Who would have guessed?"

"I always figured you'd get married eventually," I said. "You're such a romantic, don't even deny it."

"I wasn't going to," he said. "I hope that potion Anders gave me works, too. Imagine… a baby. How fantastic would that be?" He took on a dreamy faraway look saying that.

"Already picking out names, aren't you?" I didn't even have to ask, though. I knew what Alistair would pick, at least for a boy.

"Eleanor for a girl, after Elissa's mother," he said. "She gets the first girl's name. If it's a boy…"

"Duncan?"

"Of course," he said, smiling. "You ever wonder what he would think? If he saw us now?"

I laughed. "Well, after he picked his jaw up off the floor and stopped _laughing_, I'm sure he'd be happy. Duncan was practical; a King who completely believes and trusts in the Wardens and their mission is a very good thing. And he would want you to be happy. You really couldn't settle down and have a family if you stayed with the order."

"You didn't mention yourself," Alistair pointed out.

"I don't know what he'd think about that," I said. "I know he planned to have me trained to take over for him. But my methods are _so_ different. I've recruited more people in four years than he did in a dozen, I keep getting stuck in the middle of politics."

"You're less selective?"

"Not at all," I said. "I'd stack any of my Wardens against any fighter in Thedas. They're the best, and we make them even better. I don't have to worry about you or Eamon suspecting me of nefarious plans and building an army to take over Ferelden, though. When he was commander that was a very real concern, so he couldn't take everyone he wanted." I shrugged. "The politics, though. I _shouldn't_ be a noble. Not when I'm an active Warden."

"It's fine so far," Alistair said.

"And what happens in a couple hundred years, if there's a blight in, say, Rivain and every Warden in the nation has to pack up and leave to fight that? Our duty to protect the _world_ from Darkspawn is higher than any duty to a single Banneron in Ferelden. We leave everyone here unprotected."

"Weisshaupt didn't seem concerned."

"Weisshaupt is shortsighted," I said. "They dabble in intrigue and politics, but they're behind the scenes. It _does_ put us in a stronger position now, it _will_ make us better prepared to defend against future blights. But after that blight, when we've left everyone here twisting in the wind, what happens?" I shrugged. "They don't care. They see it as helping us, and it does, but in the long run it can hurt people here, and hurt people's opinion of us. What if the blight is closer? Free Marches? We leave with darkspawn just over the sea? People will riot!" I shrugged. "What if I get reassigned? What if they reassign a new commander here? I try and balance my duty to Ferelden and my duty to the Wardens, but Ferelden already gets the short end. The next person might not even bother trying."

"Well, what should we _do_?" Alistair said finally. "I don't disagree. I've had a lot of the same thoughts, but you make it all sound a lot more grim than I ever could. But if we give the land to someone else it would be a very public statement _against_ the Wardens at this point." He took a sip of ale. "I don't see how we can do it. I know you're right, I wish we'd thought of it years ago. It just seemed an easy solution to our problem of funding you and a good way to publicly show support. I don't think Eamon fully understands how much deeper your allegiance goes to the Wardens, though."

"How could he?"

"He can't," Alistair agreed.

I sighed. "I don't know what we can do. I do know that you can't always count on me to have Ferelden's interests at heart, though. Only when they also coincide with Warden interests." The bartender brought over another glass of ale for us both and I fell silent until he retreated out of earshot. "This, right now? I don't know if it's good for Ferelden. But it's good for me, so I'll support kicking the Chantry right back to Val Royeaux. They make it difficult for me to recruit and have basically said they _would_ move against us again if only I wasn't so popular. So I want them _gone_. The people seem to support it, or _my_ people do, which is good. Doesn't really matter, though."

"Maybe this is why they say we can't hold titles," Alistair said. "How do you pick where your allegiance falls? I'm not a Warden anymore, not really. Sure, I'm still tainted, but I have to put Ferelden first."

"And you should," I said. "You're King of Ferelden, you _have to_ put them first. But I'm Commander of the Grey, before I'm a mage, before I'm a Bann of Ferelden, before I'm a human or a woman or a friend or a wife. My allegiance is to the Grey Wardens. To protect the world from darkspawn, wherever they are. To the men and women who drank poison from my hands, to Weisshaupt and to our brothers and sisters across Thedas. Ferelden after all those, and only when it doesn't hurt any of them."

"That… makes sense," he said. "Eamon would probably rupture something if he heard you say it, but I can't argue." Alistair paused, glancing around to make sure his guards couldn't hear us. "So, this _idea _of his. It would be good for the Wardens?"

"Oh yes," I said. "Imagine fighting darkspawn without healers? That's what the Chantry would reduce us to. No fear of that anymore. Better mage recruits, too. Locking people up from childhood doesn't exactly do wonders for mental stability, you know."

"And Ferelden?"

I laughed. "Well, that's your call, not mine. I'd say yes, but you would have to decide if I was telling the truth or doing my job."

"_Greeeeat_," Alistair said, drawing the word out as he rolled his eyes. "Well, I know what _Elissa_ wants."

"Maybe you should listen to her?" I said. "She's far more in touch with the common people of Ferelden than most nobles I've met." He seemed to consider this.

Anders rushed in, dropping a bag as soon as the door closed behind him. "Darkspawn have been spotted just south of the city."

* * *

_A/N: I have to give credit to Arsinoe de Blassenville for inspiring much of this chapter. Ages ago she gave me the idea of Maggie wandering the city disguised as a commoner, like Harun al-Rashid (I believe it was way back when they were in Denerim for Alistair's engagement, which shows how long it's been kicking around in my head), and the later conversation between Maggie and Alistair is similar to one we had ourselves about Wardens and titles. Check out her stories, they are truly fantastic._

_Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers. I fully admit, I am addicted to those notifications in my email. ;)_


	60. I'm just going to… pass out for a bit

I was up and headed to the stairs as soon as the word 'darkspawn' passed his lips, shouting out to every Warden within hearing. Yanking the apron and overdress of the cheap peasant clothes off before I even made it to our room, Anders was at my heels, kicking the door shut as we quickly stripped and pulled on armor. Our routine seamless at this point, I spun and worked on my own gauntlets while he buckled me in and, once done, turned so I could do the same for him. Running out the door we pounded down the stairs, seeing some already waiting in the main room, others not far behind us.

"Tell me you found lyrium," I said.

"We're good," he told me, splitting the blue potions between himself, Aidan and me. The red potions and wrapped poultices went to everyone. I spun, checking to see if we were waiting on anyone, when I saw Alistair jump the last few stairs, plate armor on.

"Absolutely _not_," I said, advancing on him.

"Excuse me?" he said, looking down at me. "I'm a Grey Warden, same as you. And king of Ferelden. You can't order me around!"

"Exactly," I hissed. "You're king. We're the ones who die in battle so the king _doesn't_. Haven't we been here before? It didn't end well!"

"Mags, I'm not Cailin and you know it. I can sense them already. It's a big group, you need every blade you can get."

"Not as much as Ferelden needs its king," I said again. "You don't even have an _heir_ yet!"

"You won't change my mind," he said. I sighed.

"Fine, but damnit, if you're hurt you say something _fast_. I don't want a civil war on my conscience." I shoved a share of the healing items at him and ran a hand through my hair in frustration. Anders met my eyes and shrugged helplessly.

"Other than the one you, Eamon and Elissa seem dead set on starting?" he laughed, walking past me.

We started piling out of the inn, finding chaos in the streets. "Get inside," I yelled to the people. "Lock your doors and stay safe."

Seeing people staring at him Alistair took out his sword, the one we had made for him out of starmetal, and raised it high. "Today," he shouted, "your king stands with his brothers and sisters in the Grey Wardens. Today we fight for the city of Amaranthine!" Everyone cheered.

"Eamon always says never miss an opportunity like that," he whispered.

I chuckled as we headed down the street. "Ham," Anders whispered with a grin.

"Alistair!" called someone behind us. He stopped and we all turned. Elissa was barreling towards our party, her guards doing their best to keep up. Without slowing down she leapt towards him, he caught her easily. "Please be careful," she said. I took a step back, gesturing for the others to do the same so they could have some degree of privacy. He replied, brushing an armored fingertip along the queen's cheek before he pulled off his helmet. Alistair then kissed her deeply, bending Elissa backwards until she was nearly parallel to the ground, her long hair brushing the pavement.

"Wow," I muttered. "That's some kiss."

"He says _we_ make things look dirty?" Anders replied, looking impressed.

"I wondered if it was a political marriage," Aidan said. "Guess that answers my question. Way to go, Your Majesty." They parted and said something else to each other before Alistair turned towards our shocked group of onlookers.

"Lead on, Warden Commander," he said with a nod and a grin, replacing his helm.

People were running towards us through the streets as we neared the gates. They must have been outside the city when the darkspawn were spotted. I could sense them nearby and drew my daggers.

There were already dead bodies lying on the ground. I could hear shouting from a coach that had stopped on the road, overwhelmed. With a scream I started running towards them, casting spells as soon as I was within range. I froze a small group of genlocks quickly and saw Alistair rush forward, shattering them without a pause. "I've _really_ missed the smell of these things," he called. "Wait, no, I haven't."

I quickly called up a force field to surround the coach. "Left, Maggie," I heard someone shout. I spun and froze a hurlock with elaborate face paint. A moment later it was down, Isolde barking in victory after she ripped his throat out. Someone began shrieking nearby, I looked and saw the force field had already disappeared and two genlocks were doing their best to overturn the coach, having already killed the horses. I cast another and shook my head. "Did someone dispel that?" I called.

"Who would do that?" Alistair asked after pulling his sword from a hurlock's chest.

"I don't know," I shouted back, ducking a blade and slicing through the calves of another hurlock, sending him to the ground howling before my dog was on him, tearing viciously at his face. "It should have lasted longer."

"Need healing," someone called. I saw Anders run from the corner of my eye and followed. Rowan was trying to take on three genlocks at once, while on the ground, her leg bleeding. I jumped between her and the darkspawn so Anders could fix the injury. I got one, my dog and Anders' each taking another.

"Maggie, the coach," Alistair called out.

"What?" I screamed, casting the spell a third time before quickly downing a lyrium potion. "How is this happening? Who is in there?" No one had time to answer, another group of darkspawn was cresting the nearest hill, running towards us. I raised both hands, trying to summon a storm fast enough to hit them before they could reach our group, and fell to my knees. "No!" I gasped out, choking in air and rolling to one side so I could narrowly avoid being decapitated. My mabari stood between me and the darkspawn, barking furiously as she tried to find an opening to bite him.

I could hear Aidan and Anders both screaming at once. Alistair rushed over to me, knocking a genlock back with his shield while I struggled to my feet. "Templar?" he said. I nodded. "Guard the mages!" he roared. I was surrounded by Wardens a second later, and could see between them just enough to confirm Anders and Aidan were similarly protected. Alistair howled with fury as he ripped open the coach door, yanking someone from it and throwing them to the ground.

"How dare you?" I could hear someone ask.

"Shut up!" he yelled, slamming the door closed again. I saw him lift the man off the ground with one arm, pinning him to the side of the coach. "We're down three because of you," he hissed. "So start killing darkspawn unless you want to be on the gallows by dawn for treason."

"Andraste's _arse_," I heard someone mutter. Glancing in the direction Tobias was pointing I saw another coach racing towards us at breakneck speed, followed by at least three dozen more darkspawn on foot.

"Archers," I shouted. Bows and crossbows were unsheathed all around me and a volley of bolts and arrows sailed towards the oncoming group. At least a quarter of them dropped in the first wave. The second took out even more, but at that point they were too close to try for a third. "Dogs!" I screamed, and half a dozen mabari began thundering towards the line, each taking out one more of the darkspawn before they could reach us. I saw Nathaniel climb to the top of the coach, dashing off arrows so quickly his arms were a blur. Moments later he was joined by Tobias, Mal and Rowan.

The full force of the darkspawn seemed to throw itself at my ring of protectors. "Kill the witch," one said. Oh, this was just turning into the perfect night. I screamed in frustration as Tobias held a hand to his face, blood seeping between his fingers.

"I'm fine," I said to the circle of Wardens still surrounding me. We would all be killed if everyone tried to stand still any longer. I couldn't let five Wardens die just to protect me.

Hoping I could remember everything I'd been taught over the years by my friends I ran forward, ignoring the weight of exhaustion pulling at me, and began to fight with nothing more than blades. I soon realized that, even though I could remember the moves, I was far too exhausted to successfully complete them. Every parry was a moment too late, every stab too slow. I began kicking at the darkspawn in desperation, slamming my arm into them, pommel first, even biting into one whose arm came too close to my face, spitting the flesh back at him before I stabbed.

If I was fighting without magic by choice I might have stood a chance. As it was, we had most of them down before the complete effects of the smite hit me. Once it did I could barely lift my arms to hold my own blades. I heard Anders holler as I went to my knees, looking dumbly at the rusty sword protruding from my chest. "Damn," I muttered, my swearing drowned out by the howling of my dog.

Something sweet and cloying was poured down my throat. "Bring them to the Chantry," a voice called out. I could feel arms slip under me, cold metal against my neck above the collar of my armor. "Lock everyone in the first coach up, we'll deal with that later."

Groaning I tried to open my eyes. "Maggie's conscious," I heard Alistair say, his voice coming from nearby.

There was a lot of noise around me and I saw Anders and Alistair looking down at me. Anders was leaning heavily on Mal, and blood was caked in his hair, Alistair was carrying me in his arms. "You'll be fine, we're taking you to the apostates in the Chantry," Anders said. I tried to reply and he shushed me. "Don't talk," he said. "Don't let her talk," he repeated to Alistair.

I tried to look around. From the angle he was carrying me I could see Nathaniel barking out orders, Sigrun leaning against him and holding a poultice to a nasty looking gash on her side. Tobias was carrying Rowan, who was bleeding from the head. The cut on his face wasn't bleeding, but it looked deep and nasty. I tried to sit up so I could see more. "Damnit, Maggie, stay still," Alistair said. "It's hard enough carrying you with a skewer through your middle. Everyone's fine. No casualties, but some bad injuries."

I think I tried to reply because Alistair told me to be quiet again. I could feel him moving, but it was strange and distant. Something cold was pressed to my face. I opened my eyes again and realized that no, it was my face that had been pressed to something cold. I was on my side, on the floor of the Chantry. I could hear Anders shouting at someone. "It's a sodding _ankle_," he yelled. "I can fix it myself tomorrow. Fix Maggie, then Aidan, Rowan, and Sigrun. Then anyone else who's bleeding. _Then_ worry about me." Someone argued back and he swore at them. "Damn you, all head wounds look horrible, if you're a healer you should _know_ that! It's _fine_, now do what I said."

An unfamiliar man knelt over me. "This will hurt," he said. I winced, feeling a pulling sensation as someone gripped the sword and braced myself. It didn't help. I screamed, spraying blood from my mouth. Someone moved out of the way and I saw Anders pull himself over to me by his elbows, his skin an unusual shade of green. I closed my eyes, holding his hand, and tried to catch my breath. However, when someone roughly yanked the top of my armor off I couldn't stop myself from screaming again.

"Andraste's knickers, be _careful_," he said, wiping my face and glaring at the unfamiliar man working on me. "You know she does feel pain like everyone else!" I tried to laugh and he shushed me. "Focus on the inside first," he directed the healer. "Work from the inside out, otherwise you'll close the wound and leave her filling with blood." I moaned, feeling a tugging deep inside my chest.

"By the Maker, get out of my way," a woman bellowed.

"I'm _trying_ to heal here," the man kneeling over me said. "Bugger off."

"Really? Since it looks like you're trying to kill her. Her skin's halfway closed and you didn't fix the internal damage. Heal the lung first or she'll drown in her own blood. Now _move_ or I'll blast you."

Grumbling, he moved back and the young woman who had come to help us at the inn appeared. "Heal his leg," she barked, and the man moved on to Anders. "If he can't manage a broken ankle we can just tell the templars he's too incompetent to be a danger as an apostate," she whispered to me. I giggled, sending more blood from my lips.

I felt a burst of magic from nearby. "Hey," I heard Anders grumble. "Straighten it first, you want to give me a limp? I can't exactly fight darkspawn if I can't _walk_." There was a muttered apology and then I heard Anders grunt in pain.

"Pleasure to see you again, Commander," she said, holding both hands over me. "This will be, well, it'll be pretty sodding awful. But I suspect you've had worse." I gripped Anders' hand as she cast spells over me. "Take a breath," she said. I did, finding it much easier.

"Good," Anders said, looking closely at my mouth. "No blood."

He grunted as the other mage set his ankle to the proper position. "Better. Always straighten broken bones before you cast. It'll hurt, but that's the only way to make sure the bones heal like they should. If you're ever working on an arm or a leg, one of the long bones, you can even tie the limb to a flat blade with some rags to keep it steady." More magic and then I saw someone move away. "Oh, I'll feel that one every time it rains," Anders whispered.

The mage working on me chuckled and continued casting. "How is Aidan," I asked, remembering Anders mentioning he needed healing next. "The other mage."

"A right pig," she replied. "Barely had him halfway done before he was trying to sweet talk me into his bed."

"Ah, back to normal, then," Anders said. She cast another spell, laughing.

"And so are you," she said, looking me over. I sat up and examined the wound. It was scarred, but not badly, and although sore I was no longer in agony. "Sorry, I'm not as good as what you're used to. That's the smallest scar I could manage."

"What's one more," I said, brushing her apology off. "You did a great job, I worried I was done for. Any chance I can offer you a job?" I said, looking at the healer.

"Oh, not with you folks, no thank you" she laughed before moving on to help someone else.

"What happened?" I said to Anders.

He helped me to my feet. "Let's go outside." I nodded and followed him, wearing just the bottom of my armor and the thin shirt I wore under the top. We sat on a bench outside the Chantry. I shivered as the night breeze hit my skin.

"Well," I said, scooting close to him for warmth. He put an arm around me.

"Apparently it's forbidden to cast spells near a Grand Cleric," Anders said. "Or something like that. That's who was in the first coach."

'What sodding chant verse is _that_ from?"

"None I've read, but she claims not to know it was us. Says she was worried it was darkspawn magic."

"A protective field? Oh, well, _clearly," _I said, snorting.

"Yeah," Anders said. "Nathaniel didn't buy it either. She and the templar are both in jail for now, the rest of her guard were killed before we got there. Eamon was in the next coach, he's fine, but a few of his knights didn't make it." He shrugged. "The templar said she panicked when she realized there was magic being used and ordered him to make it stop. He figured that might not be the smartest plan, but wasn't keen on being sent to Aeonar."

"Lovely," I muttered. "You know, tomorrow is going to be _horrible_."

"I know," he agreed. "I feel like I've been dancing with an ogre. And by dancing I mean stomped on."

"How's the leg?"

"It'll do," he said. "He wasn't very good, but it'll probably only bug me once in a while. Even then it may not for a few years." He shook his head in disbelief. "You know, when we brought you in he went on with something about how 'this is why they shouldn't put women in charge.'"

"No wonder the other mage didn't seem to like him much," I laughed. We stood up and went back inside. Most of the serious injuries were healed or being worked on. I glanced over to where I had been worked on for my armor, and saw the floor had already been cleaned.

Anders and I saw Ser Bryant who was moving among the healers making sure they didn't need anything. He walked over to us. "Glad to see you up and about, Commander," he said. "I have to admit, when they carried you in I feared the worst."

"Thank you," I told him. "I've been hurt worse, but that was pretty bad even for me. I think knowing Anders wasn't able to heal me made it even more frightening, though." I took a quick look around the room. "Any chance you've seen the rest of my armor?"

"Sorry, no," he said. "Check with Ser Charles, though. He was cleaning up over there. I don't suppose either of you could spare some lyrium potions?" he asked. "A few of the healers are reaching their limit." We both handed over our meager supply, which he took with a look of distaste. "Sorry," he said. "It isn't you. I just… when I see these I remember how much I used to need them. I'm glad those days are over." I nodded with what I hoped was an understanding expression and he excused himself, walking among the fallen Wardens and working healers to distribute the blue vials.

I saw other templars sitting with the mages, handing off bandages and wiping their hands or the injured when directed. Some were simply praying. Templars and mages working together, not on opposing sides. It was a strange scene, one I never imagined I would look on.

Continuing to glance around I screamed out "No! Stop!" as my eyes rested on one of the healers. She had a fingertip in her mouth in concentration, blood from her patient splattered across her arms. Anders and I raced over and I pulled her hand from her mouth. "Some of the blood on us is _darkspawn_," I said. "You don't want to get that in your mouth!"

"Maker's breath," she gasped, looking at her dirty hands. "I… I didn't even think. It's just, a nervous habit. I chew my nails when I'm thinking."

I took a breath and looked closely at her hands. All, or close to all, of the blood was from a Warden. "You should be fine. Just… don't do that again." She nodded, eyes wide.

"Actually," Anders said as we walked away from the stunned young woman, "I wonder if _our_ blood could taint people, too. Especially someone who joined a long time ago."

"Something to think about," I said. "Wouldn't recommend experiments, though." He chuckled and agreed.

The Revererd Mother was sitting with Sigrun and Nathaniel, who both looked exhausted and angry. "Alistair's back at the inn," Nathaniel said. "He was shouting something about the 'damnable Chantry' and that 'bloody old bat' to Eamon." He shook his head, an amused expression briefly playing across his face. "Eamon also says thank you."

"For what?"

"Um, saving him from the darkspawn," Sigrun laughed.

"Oh, that," I said. "Well, it _is_ what we do."

"One of his knights should join us," she said. "He got bit." I looked at her and she nodded. "Definitely," Sigrun said.

"I have some lyrium dust back with my things," I said. "And everything else. We can do that when we're done here. First thing. If he's good enough to be a knight of the royal guard he's good enough to be a Warden."

She nodded in agreement. "How are you two still up?" she asked. "Aidan passed out on the floor, Mal had to carry him back to the inn."

"Force of will alone," I laughed. "I'd like to know everyone's all right before I crash," I said. "And I need to find the rest of my armor. I look absurd."

The Revered Mother stood up. "I'll check on that," she said, slipping through a door and down a flight of stairs. Anders and I sat with Nathaniel and Sigrun.

"I have to admit, the last time we were here was much more fun," Anders laughed. I leaned against him and made a sound of agreement.

"Commander?" someone whispered, shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see the Revered Mother and Ser Irminric standing over us. I must have fallen asleep. Anders grumbled as he woke up, shifting against me.

"I have your armor," he said, staring at me wide-eyed. "I fixed it for you. It was… damaged." Since I had a darkspawn sword shoved through my back and out my front that was an incredible understatement.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the breastplate back. I glanced at it and couldn't even see where it had been pierced. "This is very good work," I told him, surprised. I didn't realize templars were even trained on how to do their own repairs. Alistair and Ronan certainly couldn't.

"I like fixing things," he said nervously. "I left your flask alone. It was dented by the same blade that cut the armor but didn't rupture. Didn't even open it," he said. "It felt strange."

"Good," I said. "It's not alcohol, it's something used by Grey Wardens in certain potions, but it's dangerous for anyone else so I keep it hidden." Well, that sounded reasonable. And I suspected if I told people I carried a flask of archdemon blood in my armor so we could make people drink it I would send them running in terror from the room.

He looked curious, as did the Revered Mother, but neither pressed me for details. "That leather is different. I've never seen anything like it. Is it some kind of dragon? It was warm."

"Some kind, yes," I said.

"Maggie likes to brag," Anders said. "It's archdemon."

"Oh-h," Irminric gasped, looking shocked as he pulled his hands back.

"Don't worry, it's safe," I said. "No more dangerous than normal high dragon, just a bit different. The smith who made it wasn't a Warden, either."

He looked relieved. "It's very nice," he said. After congratulating us on our marriage again he fled across the room to stand with Ser Charles, looking nervously at me as he spoke to his fellow templar.

"No better?" I asked the Revered Mother.

"No, he actually is," she said. "He seems to realize you're a real person and not a vision. He's just a bit intimidated by you now."

"Oh," I said, feeling bad for him. I'm sure knowing my armor was made out of an archdemon didn't help that problem. I stood up and pulled it on, Anders helping me buckle up, so I wouldn't need to walk through the streets half-dressed in the bottom and a bloodstained undersirt.

Finally everyone was healed, or healed as much as we could hope. Anders and Aidan would have their work cut out for them tomorrow, but no one would suffer any long term damage now. After apologizing for keeping everyone at the Chantry up half the night for a second day in a row we left, returning to the inn.

Eamon, Alistair, and Elissa were sitting in the front room, an unfamiliar man was at a table not far from them, staring into a pint of ale.

"And you worried _I'd_ get hurt?" Alistair said as we walked in, relief on his face.

"Laugh it up," I said.

"Well, if you insist," he said, chuckling. He gestured over to the man sitting near them. "Hal, was it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said with a nod of his head.

"This is the Warden Commander. She'll explain what's going to happen to you now."

"Ser," he said, saluting me.

"None of that," I said, gesturing for him to follow. Having nowhere else we could go that was private, I led him to our bedroom. Sigrun, Nathaniel, and Anders followed me, I sent everyone else on to bed. Leaving the dogs in the hall I shut the door and gestured to a chair. "How much has Alistair told you?" I asked, sitting down and groaning with exhaustion.

"Almost nothing," he said. "He told me I had the darkspawn sickness from getting bit, and that he knew because he was a Warden even though I didn't show it yet, but there was a chance becoming a Grey Warden would save me."

"Basically," I said. "You've seen what we do. Can you live like this?"

"All of you seem to manage," he said. "So it must not be impossible. Better than going mad and dying, that's for sure." I nodded and sent him from the room. Anders helped me with the buckles of my armor so I could retrieve the flask from inside. Sigrun produced the small box in my pack that contained lyrium dust and the metal cup I'd used as a joining chalice in the past.

"Darkspawn blood," Anders said.

"We'll just go back to where we fought," I said. "The bodies need burning anyways so no one gets sick. I should be able to manage if I use blood magic."

"Or we can use a _torch_," Nathaniel said with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh. Yes, we can do that," I said with a chuckle. Armor replaced we walked out. Sigrun and Nathaniel disappeared briefly, I could hear them knocking on doors, calling out 'Joining,' as they walked. A group of exhausted looking and blood covered Wardens began to gather in the hall. I was surprised to see Aidan among them since he'd already passed out. I winced seeing the large bloodstain covering the front of his robes. "We're going back to where we fought," I said. After Nathaniel distributed torches I led everyone outside. Alistair got up, falling in step with us and gesturing for Eamon and Elissa to stay where they were.

"_More_ Warden secrets?" she muttered as we left.

It didn't take long to reach the section of the Pilgrim's Path where we fought. I handed an empty vial to Hal. "You need one vial of darkspawn blood. Symbolically it should be one you killed yourself, but that really doesn't matter." Once he handed it to me I climbed into the abandoned and damaged coach, closing the door. Everything mixed easily but I cursed as I tried to cast a flame over the glass, forgetting. "Need a Warden with a torch," I called. Nathaniel stepped in, holding his low enough I could steady the cup above it. Grateful for the insulation of my armored gloves, which were all but fireproof, I waited for bubbles on the surface.

"Forgot you can't cast a flame, didn't you?" he said.

"Maybe," I admitted.

"Will you be better tomorrow? Like last time?"

"I hope so," I said. "Might be another day since I was injured and I won't get much rest. Too much to do tomorrow."

"Why didn't you switch to blood magic?" he asked me.

"Too risky," I said. "With a templar right there, he would have cut me down without a pause, he'd be able to sense it. And it would prove everything bad they say about us if word got out."

"Getting stabbed was _much_ safer," he said. "But, I do appreciate you using discretion."

"I have my moments," I said, adding "done" as I looked into the cup. By the time the ritual was over and he had to drink it would cool down.

We stepped out and I ran through my usual speech about the founding and purpose of the order. As expected, Hal gasped in horror when he realized just why he collected the darkspawn blood. "There are only a few words we say before the Joining," I finished, noticing Alistair trying to catch my eye. "But they have been said since the very first. Alistair, would you like the honors?" I briefly worried he wouldn't remember, despite obviously wanting to take part, but he quickly recited without a pause.

Hal accepted the battered cup from me and glanced into it warily. "Well, dead either way," he said with a shrug before drinking.

"He lives," I said a moment later, sitting in the dirt, blood, and filth. "Gather up the darkspawn and burn them. We don't need a plague outbreak. I'm just going to… pass out for a bit."

* * *

_Yep, another update. Thanks as always to everyone who reads and reviews. _


	61. My nightmares have a new starring player

I woke up to a very large, hot weight on my chest, followed by slobbering across my face. Opening my eyes I saw Isolde staring down at me. She barked happily. "All right," I muttered, trying to sit up. "Down, girl, down." I was back in the bedroom of the inn, but still wearing my armor. Anders, next to me in his armor, was being similarly assaulted by Ser Barks. "How did we get back here?"

"You passed out right after the joining," Anders said. I tried to carry you back but I think I couldn't manage. I don't remember much after that." He groaned. "I'm still exhausted."

I gasped. "Oh Maker, Hal! I passed out before he woke up?"

"It's all right," Anders said. "Nathaniel talked to him. He also explained what happened to us. I wasn't entirely coherent. I remember not wanting to let anyone go near you, I think that's how I ended up trying to carry you back."

"No, it's really not all right. I should have been there for him." I winced. I was _always_ there for new Wardens when they woke up after the joining. _Always._ I felt like I had failed in a very serious way, even if Nathaniel had picked up my slack.

"I'm astounded we made it as long as we did," he said, climbing out of bed.

I followed and cleaned up, changing into clean robes and marveling once again at the repair job on my armor before setting it aside for the day. I still felt drained and strangely empty, like part of me had been scooped out. Raising a hand I tried to conjure a basic ball of arcane energy. It sputtered and blinked out of existence within seconds and I sighed. Heading downstairs I saw the new Warden in the hallway. "I'm _so_ sorry," I told him. "I should have been there when you woke. I feel awful."

"No, its fine," he said. "Ser Nathaniel- I mean Nathaniel told me what happened. Sorry, not used to the 'no titles' thing yet. He said he didn't quite understand what a templar could do to you but that the last time it happened you barely made it a couple hours before becoming incoherent and passing out."

"Well, imagine staying up for three or four days without a moment of sleep," I said. "And then run a few miles while someone beats on you with a stick. It's about like that." I shrugged. "But still, I should have held out long enough for you to wake. I swear, this isn't a normal occurrence. I can't apologize enough. I feel like I abandoned you, I'm _so _sorry."

"Commander, I saw Anders literally pass out on his feet walking back while carrying you, and Aidan didn't make it that far before he collapsed and Nathaniel had to carry him. I can't imagine how awful you three must have felt for that to happen. I've never seen someone literally drop to the ground mid-step, without warning. I'm fine. Nathaniel explained the nightmares and… everything else. It's fine. I'm the one who ended up carrying you back here."

"Well, thank you for that," I said. "And don't call me Commander. That's what people outside the order call me. You're my brother now, call me Maggie. It's really mostly a ceremonial title, we're all equals, the closest we have to rank is just seniority, and even that isn't strict. You'll find the Wardens far less formal than what you're used to. I really only break out titles when I want to intimidate people."

"Very well, Maggie," he said, looking amused. "Anyways, Nathaniel asked if I could get you two. It's time for the execution."

"Great," I muttered. "Well, best get it over with." I ducked back into our room and grabbed my notes before heading downstairs.

"Any better?" Nathaniel asked, seeing us. The three of us would be attending the execution, but most of the other Wardens wouldn't. I didn't want people to see this as the Grey Wardens executing templars, I was acting as Bann now. That he was just as much ruler as me, if not more, was an openly known secret, though. He also suggested Anders accompany us, since seeing the newlyweds together might give people a bit of a thrill and make them more receptive to whatever I had to say.

"If by better you mean it feels like half my insides are gone and replaced with cold emptiness, then yes, I'm doing _fantastic_," Anders said.

"Still no magic," I said. "It's… it feels awful."

He gave us a strange look. "Well, we all manage just fine. I'm sure you can stand another few hours of living like the rest of us do every day." He looked us over. "Why the robes and staff if you can't cast any spells?"

"No," I said. "It's not like that. I don't think so, anyways. I can _feel_ it missing. It's like I woke up discovered I was blind and deaf. Part of me is missing. I feel empty. I hate it." I shrugged. "I don't think this is how other people feel. It can't be. The robes just… I don't know, they made me feel a little better. Normal."

"It shouldn't be much longer though, right?" he said, now looking concerned.

"Another day maybe," Anders said. "I've gone that long without sleep after, it took a while to recover."

"Does this happen a lot?" Hal asked.

"No, this was years ago, before I was a Warden. Templars caught me on one of my escapes from the Circle tower and made me march for almost a full day after before I just collapsed on the road. Of course, not understanding the difference between being unconscious because you're taking a nap and because you're sick they just tried kicking me to get me up. Didn't work, but the fact that I couldn't heal my broken ribs for a few days put them even further off their schedule, which was nice." He looked thoughtful. "I _think_ that was my fourth. Or possibly my fifth. They all blend together. I know it was the one where I saw Maggie for the first time just after I got back. I couldn't forget that!" He chuckled. "Anyways, we pushed ourselves far too long after it happened. Should have just gone right to bed, but I don't think the darkspawn would have been very understanding about that." He managed a small grin. "Selfish bastards, those darkspawn. Really, no better than templars. Ronan and Alistair excluded, of course."

That reminded me. "Speaking of, where _is_ Alistair?" I asked. "And Eamon?"

They've been locked up in a back room all day with the Queen and the Grand Cleric," he said. "If we're quiet I suspect we'll hear the shouting."

"That bad?"

"Well, when she saw me she ordered my immediate execution for locking her up. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for me, the templar with her didn't seem inclined to follow that order since ten Wardens were on their feet with blades drawn as soon as the words were out." He blushed slightly. "Ordering that might not have been the best idea, but I was furious and worried about all the injured. I didn't have time to think of a better solution."

"Oh, well we just miss _all_ the fun," Anders said.

Nathaniel shook his head, looking at him like he was mad.

"Let's get this done," I said. "Before the Divine shows up riding an archdemon or something."

"Now _there_ is a fantastic mental image," Anders said as we headed to the gallows in the center of town. "I think my nightmares have a new starring player."

We reached the gallows and found a crowd already waiting, shouting and throwing things at the men standing on the platform. I sighed to see everyone in the city behaving like, well, like every bad stereotype about Ferelden. A cheer went up when I climbed to the platform, standing near the hooded executioner. I raised my hand for calm and glanced at the notes tucked into my palm. Once the sound died down I looked out at everyone. "For some crimes," I said, "there is no forgiveness. No amount of restitution can fix the damage done." They began to shout again and I raised my hand for silence. "These men forced themselves upon innocent women, something any good and decent person would consider appalling. That they did so with a level of brutality that horrified even seasoned warriors accustomed to battling darkspawn only makes it worse. They call us barbarians in Val Royeaux. They say Ferelden is an uncivilized, backwards land." More angry roars. I let them shout since really, how often did I have a chance to manipulate an entire city at once. That I specified Val Royeaux when really, all of Thedas had the same opinion, was no coincidence.

"They're wrong!" I finally said. "It is barbaric to allow your citizens to be brutalized without retribution. It is barbaric that we should look away while criminals are merely transferred elsewhere so they can hurt others. It is _barbaric_ that crimes of this nature are committed against mages daily, and it is only when they expand the circle of victims to women without magic that the Chantry _pretends_ to care." I looked out, judging their reactions. I'd spent time deciding if I should include that line, wondering how people would react. I was surprised to see horror and shock on most of their faces. I suppose none of them realized what templars did to the women they caught, although really, how could they know? "This is Ferelden," I said finally, when the crowd was calm again. "This is the birthplace of Andraste." More cheers, of course. Mentioning Andraste in a speech was a cheap move, guaranteed to get the crowd on your side. "What would she say of these crimes committed by men pledged to her Chantry? Did she free slaves simply so her holy army could rape and pillage, and then hide behind her name to escape punishment? I say, to anyone who asks how I could dare to execute templars of the Chantry: how dare _you_ expect the free people of Ferelden to bow down in the face of such unspeakable horrors." I nodded to the executioner. He walked down the line, slipping a noose over each man's hooded head as the crowd roared. "May the Maker have mercy on your souls," I said once he was done. With the pull of a lever the ground dropped out beneath them and they fell. Arms crossed, I watched until the bodies were still, swaying gently in the wind. I hoped the Maker would have mercy on my soul as well, watching the hangman cut them down.

"My only regret," I said to the crowd, "is that they chose to attack our fine city when I was away, celebrating the marriage of my dear brother-in-arms, our beloved King Alistair. I wasn't here to stop them sooner, and for that, I beg your forgiveness." People appreciate humility, Nathaniel had said, so we decided to include this apology. I crossed my arms and bowed, saluting the crowd, before climbing down from the platform.

Anders took my hand as I stepped down, bending briefly to kiss my forehead once I was on the ground, which earned more cheers from those close enough to see us now that we were on the ground. "You did _fantastic,"_ he whispered. "I think they would march on Val Royeaux at your order right now." I smiled up at him and we turned to head back to the inn, working our way through the dense crowd. I was nervous, realizing anyone could easily stab either of us and we couldn't so much as cast a shield to prevent it, but I tried not to let it show on my face. I knew Nathaniel was walking right behind us, and watching everything around him like a hawk, to prevent just that sort of thing. It made me feel a little better.

My fear was unfounded, though, as most people stepped out of our way, usually with a kind or appreciative word. A few people rushed forward, but they only wanted to touch my arm. It was extraordinarily creepy, but I managed to smile at them instead of pulling back like I wanted to. One old woman shoved her way through the crowd and pressed something into my hand, saying it would guarantee us many healthy fat babies. I thanked her and looked at it as we cleared the bulk of the crowd. "What was it?" Anders asked.

"Um, a pendant of a fat woman. Without a head."

"_What_?" I showed it to him. "Well, that's just… strange. Planning to wear it?"

"Do you _want_ many healthy fat babies?" I asked, laughing.

"About as much as I want many unhealthy scrawny ones. Imagine the fun, we could take turns strapping it to ourselves as we ran into battle. _Exciting!_" He laughed. "I'll be happy if we're still legally married by the time this week is over. That's enough for me."

I laughed and shoved it into my pocket. It could go into the box of strange and confusing things people had given me since the blight, along with the picture someone drew of me standing on the back of a horse dressed like a circus performer, the cowl that had been knit for me out of what I strongly suspected was dog hair, and the earrings made out of seashells. Large, extremely _heavy_, seashells, with darkspawn painted inside them.

We met with the surviving city guards after the executions were over and I appointed the most levelheaded among them to captain, authorizing him to begin rebuilding the force immediately. I also handed each of them a substantial amount of coin as a bonus for the extra work they had been doing since the mess began.

That done, we walked over to the Chantry. I thanked the mage who had healed me again and spoke briefly in private with the Revered Mother. "I know they deserved no less for their crimes," I said, twisting my fingers together as we sat in her tidy quarters, "but… I always feel horrible after killing people. Darkspawn I can kill, but people, even when they deserve it…" I shrugged. "It eats away at me sometimes. If I killed them in battle, to defend myself, that would be one thing. But an execution is…" I made a face. "That's part of why I couldn't execute Loghain. I couldn't bring myself to behead an unarmed man on his knees before me swearing defeat. It seemed so _wrong_."

"It isn't an easy choice," she agreed. "For whatever it may be worth, I don't think you did anything the Maker would frown on. You didn't torture them or starve them. You made the execution quick and clean, with a minimum of pain. Years ago they practiced drawing and quartering. That's a horrifying sight to behold." She shook her head. I'd never seen that done, but I knew enough to find it nauseating, particularly since it was usually done when the criminal was still alive. "If you hadn't executed them and they attacked more women once the Chantry moved them on you would be wondering if _that_ was your fault instead."

"Yes," I agreed. "You're right, I know you are," I said. "I just… worry."

"Good people always worry," she said. "When you stop caring if you're doing right is when you're truly in danger." The priest put a hand on my shoulder. "I wish the rest of my parishioners were even half as concerned with the state of their soul as you are. Commander, don't torture yourself over this. The Chant says a man who takes a woman to his bed against her will deserves no less than death. You did exactly what the Maker would ask of you."

I nodded, promising to think about what she said. The Revered Mother blessed me and I left, collecting Anders and Nathaniel. "Is your conscience soothed?" Anders asked as we walked back.

"Actually, yes," I admitted. "She's apparently _very_ good at that sort of thing."

"That, and you had no reason to feel guilty to begin with," he said. "But if it makes you feel better I won't complain about waiting and having to make small talk with Ser Irminric and Ser Charles. And I did thank him again for the drawing. I told him we would hang it in our room when we got home, he seemed rather pleased with that."

"Oh, we should do that," I said. "People do that, right? Hang up pictures of themselves at their wedding? That's normal, isn't it?"

"Yes," Nathaniel said. "I think hanging a picture up after may be the most normal thing about your wedding."

"I thought the whole thing was very normal," I said. "You and Sigrun did an amazing job pulling that together."

"She did most of it," he admitted.

"Well, thank you," I said. "You're both fantastic friends. If you ever get married I'll have to do something big and awesome for you." He looked vaguely horrified by that, although I wasn't sure if it was the idea of getting married to Sigrun, or simply the idea of me having even the slightest bit to do with the ceremony. "Or, I'll promise to stay very very far away from the planning so I don't get crazy mage fingerprints all over it." The latter, apparently, since Nathaniel looked relieved and even laughed a bit. I suppose he was wondering how he could politely tell me it would be a very sunny day in the Black City before he'd let Anders or I plan anything for him.

Once back at the inn I headed directly upstairs. "Sleep. Now." I mumbled. Anders complained he was hungry and said he would be up with food in a moment. When he arrived I was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace trying to cast a fire. "Still not working," I said.

"Soon," he said, trying to pull me to my feet.

"I hate this," I grumbled, too exhausted to hide how miserable I was feeling. "I'm _broken_."

"It's not forever," he said, managing to get me up. "Use the tinderbox." I picked it up up from the mantle and turned it over in my hands.

"I don't know how," I said finally.

He looked at me. "Well, how hard can it be? I've seen _Oghren _manage. While drunk." He paused. "Well, Oghren-drunk, not the normal drunk he is every day." Anders took it from my hands and grabbed something else from the mantle. "There is, um, this thing," he said, holding a chunk of flint. "I think you hit it here," he went on, demonstrating. "Something should happen." He held the metal object up and gave it a bit of a shake. A chunk of burning… something fell out, and quickly managed to set his robes and the carpet on fire. I screamed and he beat the flames out with his hands before stomping the carpet fire out with his boots. "Well, I've never seen Oghren do _that_," he said. "Maybe there's a trick to it?" Anders shook his head and tossed the metal object into the fireplace. "No, that doesn't seem to be it." He made a face. "Sod it. It's not cold out, anyways. And I brought tea!"

I picked up the cup and winced, burning my hand. Without thinking I called up a frost spell to cool it. Of course, nothing happened and my hands continued to burn. I dropped the mug to the floor, shattering it and spilling tea everywhere while I cradled my burnt fingers to my chest. At that point I did the only reasonable thing. I sat on the edge of the bed and promptly burst into hysterical tears.

Anders ran over and sat next to me, quickly wrapping his arms around me. "Please don't cry," he said. "It'll be fine, let's just get some sleep, and once we wake up everything will be back to normal. Monster killing, angry religious leaders, Alistair worried you'll start a war. All your favorite things. If you stop crying I'll even go into town and get you some of that fish you like from the street vendor when we wake up!" He looked around helplessly. "Um… I love you?" I managed to giggle at that and he relaxed. Pulling our robes off and nightclothes on we climbed under the blanket and I tucked myself against him, his arm clamped around me.

I woke up in the early morning. Since we went to sleep at roughly lunchtime I was surprised no one had demanded my attention for so long. Anders was standing by the fireplace in his nightclothes grinning. "One roaring blaze," he announced before raising a hand to the fireplace. Sparks leapt from his fingertips and settled among the kindling, quickly bursting into a true fire. "Ah, what a relief," he said, sitting next to me on the bed. I could already tell my magic was back. The strange emptiness was gone, I felt like myself again.

To be sure I raised my hand and cast a bolt of lightning towards the fireplace. It sizzled and arced through the air, landing harmlessly against the brick. "Now what did my lovely fire ever do to you?" he laughed.

"Would you rather I aim at you?"

Anders leered at me. "Now _that_ is an idea." I giggled and tossed aside my nightshirt, crawling across the mattress towards him. We had just started to kiss when someone knocked at the door.

"This has to be a joke, right?" I said, climbing off the bed and pulling my nightshirt back on. Glancing down to make sure the length wasn't indecent I opened the door.

"Feeling better?" Alistair asked, brushing past me and sitting at the small table in our room.

"Not as good as we would have been!" Anders laughed.

"Maker's breath, do you two _ever_ give it a rest? Don't you _chafe_?"

"Healer," Anders said, raising a hand surrounded by blue light.

"Of course. Forget I asked." He rolled his eyes and I sat back on the bed, wrapping my legs in the blankets so I wouldn't accidentally flash the king. "Well, I'm glad you're both… functional again."

"Thanks," I said. "So… what's going on? Is it breakfast time yet?"

Alistair shook his head. "It's always food with you, isn't it? Food or… that other thing. You're lucky to be a Warden or you'd be big as a house with two dozen babies underfoot." I rolled my eyes and waited for him to get to the point. "Anyways. We met with the Grand Cleric yesterday. She had some… interesting things to say. However, they didn't completely match with what the templar said when I set Eamon and Nathaniel on him." My eyebrows shot up. That sounded… well, really interesting. "She knew it was you casting spells," he said. "Saw you from the carriage window."

"So… why?" Anders said. "What kind of idiot would see the Warden Commander of Ferelden and have them rendered helpless while they're trying to save her from _darkspawn_? She understands that's what we _do_, right? The whole killing darkspawn thing? I don't just wear blue robes because the color looks good on me. Although it _really_ does."

"The kind of idiot who was raised by the chantry from birth and is utterly, completely, absolutely paralyzed by her fear of magic," he said. "The templar said she was terrified of the darkspawn and when she saw magic being used at the same time was just too much for her to deal with. She literally crawled under the bench of her coach, crying and demanding he stop you. I don't even think she was rational enough at the time to realize what a horrid idea that was."

"From _birth_?" Anders said, eyebrows raised. Alistair nodded. "Wouldn't that usually mean her mother was a—"

"Yes," Alistair said. "And I did explain that to her, although she should have figured it out herself being a priest and all."

"I'm sure telling someone so scared of magic they'd rather be killed by darkspawn then see it in use that they were most likely the bastard child of a mage went over _fabulously_," I muttered.

"Oh, even better than that," he said. "I mean, it's the obvious answer, but she'd simply never stopped to consider it. Once I pointed it out to her she kind of… broke down." He shrugged. "I felt bad for her, to be honest. It put her whole existence into question. Usually if the mother dies and there's no father to speak of the Chantry will record the mother's name. Hers wasn't listed, so that would almost certainly mean she was born in the tower. It was the obvious missing piece but she never stopped to consider it."

"So, what happens now?" Anders said.

"I don't know," Alistair admitted. "She's at the Chantry now, meeting with the Revered Mother." My head snapped up. "Don't worry, her templar is still here, we sent our own guards with her. There's going to be some changes in Ferelden very soon."

"Such as?" I asked.

"Well, first is lyrium. She's talking to Mother Moira about getting all the templars off it. Elissa just wouldn't budge on that and really, I can't blame her. What if we can't get it anymore? What then? What if someone's on a long trip and runs out? We accept incidents like this as par for the course?" He shook his head. "No. I think word of this has spread pretty far already, Ferelden won't stand for it now that they know." He sighed. "I don't _think_ it will hurt our relations with Orzammar since we'll still be importing it for mages. A good deal more than we do now for the Circle, since all mages are going to be given the opportunity to join the Ferelden army if they want. I may place some among my knights, too. You can never have too many healers around." Alistair looked pleased at that idea. "I'd like to see mages among city guards, knights, really, everywhere in Ferelden. Give as many a chance to get out of the tower as we can."

"And she's fine with this?" I was shocked.

"Well, not entirely, but she's starting to see the wisdom of our position. When I told her what happened because she knocked out anyone with the ability to heal, _and_ the most powerful Warden in the party she actually seemed fairly horrified. Probably because I made a huge show of telling her how I was covered in the Hero of Ferelden's blood at the time. And, you know, treason and all." He shrugged. "And this was all after she stopped sobbing uncontrollably when she realized her mother was most likely a mage that had no choice about giving her up." Alistair blinked for a moment. "So will I get struck by lightning for making a Grand Cleric cry? That seems… really bad."

"Doubt it," I said. "I'm sure she figured it out years ago. Denial can be pretty powerful."

"You know, I think I've heard something about that," he said, laughing. I couldn't help but join him. Alistair had experienced a very similar form of denial about his own parentage for years, after all.

"So, she just agreed?"

"Not… exactly," Alistair said, wincing slightly. Anders and I looked at each other briefly before both of us leaned forward waiting to hear the rest of his explanation. "Eamon might have presented it as 'this is happening and you can go along with it or you can be charged with treason for having a templar attack the Grey Wardens while they were fighting alongside the King of Ferelden.' So, um, she just picked agreeing over _that._"

"That might not work," Anders said. "She could write every other priest and tell them that she was threatened into this as soon as she's back in Denerim."

He shrugged. "She wouldn't agree otherwise. If she does go back on her word we're no worse off than if she hadn't agreed to begin with, though."

"So, what about the mages who don't want to fight?" I said.

He shrugged. "Not sure yet. The Revered Mother had an idea I liked, about having mages stationed at Chantries as healers for the poor. The patients couldn't pay, but I think the Crown and Chantry, along with the local lords, could manage a stipend so they don't have to actually _live_ in the Chantry like paupers, either. It would be a decent job, I think, and they can have a home and a normal life outside it."

"That does sound nice," Anders said. "I would have jumped on something like that when I was in the Circle. Not that they would have let me with my track record."

"So… _are_ we splitting from the Divine?" I asked, thinking there was no way Val Royeaux would support this.

"Not yet," he said. "Maybe never. We're going to change things slowly and see how they react. This is the first step. The Grand Cleric thinks it's the only step for now. The lyrium may become an issue, but I don't think Val Royeaux risk the public exposure that would happen if they fought us on it. Everything else is actually within the confines of their existing rules. It's just that no one has ever interpreted them so liberally."

"What about the apostates at the Chantry?" Anders said.

"I… don't know yet. I'm trying to think of something still. If I come up with any ideas I'll let you know."

"You know what they'll do to them," Anders said. "Sure, the kids will go to the circle, but the adults? Apostates that age aren't taken to the tower, not unless they're escapees like I was. They'll be _killed_. Even the teenagers!"

"Look, I know," Alistair said, running a hand through his hair. "And I won't let that happen. I just don't know how yet. If I have to say every one of them is now part of the royal staff I will. I know they saved all your lives, beheading is a really lousy reward."

"If not I'm conscripting every single one of them," I said

"I _know_," Alistair said. "Believe me, I'm _fully _aware of that. Probably would have figured it out on my own even if Nathaniel hadn't told me the exact same thing last night. We _have_ met before, you know." He stood up. "Just trust me for now. I'm trying to do this without a war since honestly I don't think we'd be able to _win_ against all of the Chantry's templars outside Ferelden. They easily outnumber our whole army." He was now standing by the door. "Sorry, I know this is a lot to take in just after you both woke up. I'll let you get cleaned up and see you downstairs for breakfast."

Anders spoke up before Alistair could slip out the door. "Does she know...?" He held up his left hand, displaying his wedding ring.

"I don't think so," Alistair said. "Not unless Mother Moira tells her today, which seems likely." He gave us a sympathetic glance. "Hopefully she'll realize she has bigger problems than the two of you right now."

* * *

_Could it really be so easy? Ha! Is it ever? Thank you to my awesome readers and reviewers who are constantly giving me fantastic ideas. Ideas which will make this story drag on even longer, but hey, that isn't necessarily a bad thing! ;)_


	62. Those things are dangerous!

I looked at Anders and sighed after Alistair closed the door. "I guess we'd better head downstairs," I grumbled.

He stood up, rolling his eyes. "Fine," Anders said. "I've barely had five minutes alone with you that haven't involved bleeding or severe templar-induced exhaustion since our wedding night, though. I strongly advise you to get your robes off the second we close that door tonight or they'll end up a small pile of very tattered rags on the floor."

"Yes, ser!" I said, laughing as I got dressed.

Anders stopped me before I could open the door, covering my hand with his. "Maggie," he said. "Whatever happens, whatever that crazy old bitch says…"

"I know," I said, wrapping my arms around him. "I love you, too."

"Good," he said before kissing me.

We headed downstairs and slipped into two open seats, saying hello to Eamon before helping ourselves to the food already set out. I hadn't seen him since he arrived, after all. "What's the plan today?" Nathaniel asked, looking at me.

I shrugged. "I _want_ to go home. But with less than ten guards in the whole city that seems like a bad move. We need more knights, too. I checked, we lost quite a few when they tried to stop the riots before us."

"I still don't see how," he said. "Taking them out was _easy_."

"By the time we got here, sure. The knights got them before the lyrium withdrawal set in when they were still in fighting shape." I caught Anders stealing several pieces of bacon off my plate so I grabbed a biscuit off his. "I saw that," I said, and he laughed. "I might post something at the Chantry for squires. If we can handle all the training ourselves we might end up with the best knights in Ferelden."

"I'd write to the larger freeholds in the area, too," he said. "Some of the minor lords or wealthy landowners might have a younger son who needs a place."

"Or daughter," I said.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Not many will go for that."

"Even so, I want to make sure they know we'd be happy to have girls." I said. Once breakfast was clear we wrote the letters so they could go out in the day's post and I made the advertisements for the Chanter's board. It wasn't a Chanter job specifically, but a lot of people used the board to advertise open positions as well. "Where did the Bann of Amaranthine City live?" I suddenly asked. Nathaniel directed me to a house on the southern end of town.

"Why?"

"I _think_ it would be ours now, since her title was never filled and the Warden Commander is Bann of the city and surrounding area," I said. "Isn't it?"

"Yes," Alistair said. "It belongs to the Wardens now. I should have said something, I figured you knew."

"Well, might as well get that sorted while we're stuck here," I said.

"It should be in order," Alistair said. "The Crown took over maintenance while the title was open. Kept the staff paid. It's really only been yours since Elissa's coronation and the division of the Arling. They should know by now, I sent a letter."

"Well then we should consider moving there," I said. "I want a practice yard while we're stuck in town. I don't want us all getting slow and soft eating tavern food and drinking all day."

"You could switch to small ale," Alistair chuckled.

"Sodding hate small ale. Watered down stuff. It's gross."

"All right, Oghren," he laughed.

"Maggie, just plan to keep a few hours free today," Eamon said as I stood up. "Remember our discussion in Denerim? I'd like to share some of your ideas with the Grand Cleric." He stared at me. "Please stop looking at me like I just suggested high tea with a legion of chevalier. She's one woman, and there won't be any templars present."

I blushed. "Sorry, of course. Sure, happy to. Maybe after dinner?"

"That would be fine," he said. I nodded and practically ran from the room.

"You don't sound like it would be fine," Sigrun said to me once we were outside.

"Well, it's _not_. But I'll deal with it, I guess. I'd rather not talk to her, or see her at all."

"From what I can tell she does feel bad, at least about what happened during the fight," Nathaniel said. "She really wasn't thinking clearly when it happened according to the templar, so hopefully you can use that to your advantage."

"Oh, well, that makes everything just better," Anders said. "She could have gotten all of us killed, including the king. She almost _did_ manage to kill my _wife_. But as long as she feels _bad_ about it that's just _fine_."

"You're really enjoying that, aren't you?" Sigrun said, looking up at him.

"What?"

"I don't think I've heard you refer to Maggie by her name more than once in days. It's cute!"

He chuckled. "What, I should use a descriptive nickname for her instead? You've already claimed Grumpy for Nathaniel. I'm not sure I like the idea of referring to the woman I sleep next to as Killer."

Laughing, I climbed the Chantry steps. A young woman I didn't recognize was standing next to the board in robes. "These are paying jobs," I said, handing her my notices. One was for squires at the Keep, another for knights, and the last for city guards. She posted them on the left side, which was usually reserved for actual jobs, and not simply Chantry charity errands.

"And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword," the chanter responded. I thanked her and turned to head back down the stairs, pondering the verse. I couldn't trust anyone who lacked a proper fear of death. Death was painful. And final. And painful. Even Sigrun had a remarkably well developed self-preservation instinct despite all her Legion of the Dead talk. People who didn't fear death tended to cause it in everyone around them, too. Fortunately anyone who thought of the Maker as their _literal_ shield was destined to a messy end in short order, hopefully before doing something stupid enough to get someone else killed.

Nathaniel, being the most familiar with the city, led us to the small city estate of the Bann. "Margaret Amell!" I heard someone scream when we were only a few blocks away. Stopping everyone, I turned to see a very enraged Knight-Commander Greagoir striding towards me. Apparently Amaranthine City was _the_ place to be these days.

"Mac Greine," I said when he reached us. I was pleased to see the scabbard on his back was empty.

"_What_?"

"Margaret Mac Greine," I said. "I changed my name when I married. You know my husband Anders, don't you? He went back to his stepfather's name." His jaw dropped, which wasn't much of a surprise. "Although we've been over this before, Greagoir. It's Warden Commander unless I can use your name too." Sigrun giggled into her hand.

"Always a pleasure, Greggy," Anders said with a grin. Even Nathaniel barely managed to suppress a snort of laughter at that.

He spun towards Anders. "You… you…." I thought the Knight Commander would hit him for a moment. "You are an _idiot_. And my opinion of _you_," he added, pointing at me, "isn't improved by this so-called marriage."

"So called?" Anders said, poking him in the chest. "Listen up, you repressed tin man! We stood in a Chantry, in front of the Maker, the Revered Mother of Amaranthine and half the Wardens of Ferelden. Nothing _so called_ about it and if you say that again I'll blast you halfway down this street so fast you won't be able to _think_ the word 'smite.'" Anders had actually grabbed him by the neck of his armor and was glaring down into the templar's eyes, jaw clenched so tight I could see the veins in his neck standing out, sparks dropping from the fingers of his free hand. Greagoir was a templar, sure, but Anders had the advantage of being at least twenty years younger and several inches taller, and he appeared to be operating on pure rage at the moment.

"Wow. Note to self, don't get Anders angry," Sigrun said, shocked.

"It usually takes quite a bit to even make him frown," Nathaniel added. "Impressive."

Anders dropped his grip on Greagoir roughly, sending the older man stumbling back a few paces, and folded his arms, still glaring. I put a hand on his shoulder and stretched up to whisper in his ear. "Bitter man who sleeps alone," I said, too quiet for anyone else to hear, and Anders relaxed slightly, chuckling.

"You're right about that," he said.

I turned back to the Knight-Commander. "Anyways," I said. "You were screaming my name from halfway across town. You have something to ask me? We've already got a Knight-Commander here, Ser Tavish is standing outside the Chantry right now."

"He is no longer a knight of the Chantry," Greagoir said emphatically.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," I countered. "What do you want? I am an _absurdly_ busy woman, I have things to do and with half the guards here dead apparently nothing in this city can get done unless _I_ do it."

"I came here to pick up my men. I am, apparently, too late since you killed half of them yesterday." He looked all but ready to spit on me. "You _executed_ more than half a dozen templars of the Chantry in the town square! What is _wrong_ with you! Are you taking out your anger at living in the tower on every templar you meet?" He started to move towards me and stopped when Anders took another step forward. "You've always been violent and half-mad, but this is too much. How _dare_ you!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "We're going into that alley. Now. Nathaniel, Sigrun, make sure he follows us. I'm not discussing this in the middle of the street."

I walked forward, not checking to see if they followed since I knew one templar was no match for two non-mage Wardens. The new city guard captain turned the corner on his patrol as soon as I entered. "Ser," he said, saluting me. "Five new men this morning. Good capable sorts, too. Should be back up to snuff in no time with the help you gave us."

"Good," I said, forcing a neutral expression onto my face. "I'm going to see about getting you some mages, too. A healer or two for sure. Battlemages as well, if you think you'd find a use for them."

"Battlemages…" he said, considering the idea. "Like you, ser?"

"There's no one quite like her," Anders said. "But the same skill background, yes."

He laughed. "Yes, I've heard that's true. Yes, I think we could use that. You… you can freeze people, or use magic so they can't move? I bet that would be awfully handy when the lads got too out of control in the taverns. Get everyone in the drunk tanks without hurting them." I smiled, I hadn't even thought of something like that. It wasn't actually a skill every mage who specialized in combat had, but there were plenty of mages who specialized in hexes and wards that could immobilize a tavern full of fighting drunks with little more than a flick of the wrist. There were certainly times when the guards had people who needed to be taken into custody but didn't want to cause any injuries. That he immediately went to seeing a way to do his job without hurting people made me happy, I didn't want a captain who was eager to abuse his power. "Yes," he said, still thinking. "I think mages would make excellent additions to the force. Why hasn't anyone thought of this before? Every city should be looking for ways to get bad elements under control without actually having fighting in the streets."

"Good," I said. "It may be some time, but I'll keep you updated. Carry on." He saluted me and continued on his patrol. "I like him," I said once he was gone.

Nathaniel nodded. "He definitely has the right attitude for his job. Looking for the path of least violence is smart for a guard. Keeping order through respect instead of fear and violence means order would be maintained even without a guard over everyone's shoulder."

I nodded. "But speaking of order through _fear_," I said, turning to the Knight-Commander who had been rudely shoved along behind us by Nathaniel and Sigrun.

"Are you that worried you'll lose the fanatical love the poor fools in this town seem to have for you?" Greagoir said. "Dragging me into a back alley so they don't have to overhear how you're using your power to carry out an old grudge?"

"Quiet!" Nathaniel snapped. "You may be accustomed to saying whatever you like to mages but you're addressing the Commander of the Grey _and_ a Bann of Ferelden now." I met his eyes briefly and his eyebrows twitched. It wasn't offense over seeing me disrespected, Nathaniel just got a kick out of taking people down a peg whenever he could. Someone as sanctimonious as the Knight-Commander would be a fun target for him.

"Anders, please tell Greagoir about the injuries you healed on his men's victims," I said. "Be as specific as possible." With a sigh Anders began to detail the wounds each woman had. He looked at his hands, constantly moving, while he spoke, and I stared at the Knight-Commander. Sigrun, who had seen the women but hadn't been present during the actual healing and had no idea of their injuries beyond the superficial, began gagging. Nathaniel put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him while he glared daggers at Greagoir.

He was silent for a long time after Anders stopped speaking. "You're _positive_ it was templars who did this?" he finally said.

"We caught them in the act," I said.

He took a deep breath, putting his hands over his face for a moment. "Lyrium or no, what could drive them to such… _brutality_?" Greagoir asked, not speaking to any of us in particular.

Anders actually began to laugh at that, a grim unfamiliar laugh, not the one I was accustomed to hearing. "You _are_ kidding, right? You can't be _that _naive, not at your age." He stared at the Knight-Commander, obviously shocked. "Andraste's sword, you _are_ serious!"

"What are you talking about, Anders?" Greagoir said, apparently too stunned to work up a decent insult.

"_Your men_ have always been capable of that degree of brutality. If you didn't notice, or simply didn't care, when they did the same thing to some hapless apostate woman, well, that's no one's failing but your own." Once again, Anders looked mad enough to attack Greagoir. I could feel his magic surging and receding at an alarming speed and realized it was taking all his willpower just to keep it in check. "Or does it not count as brutality if the woman is a mage? Is that it, hm? Are they simply fair game for the frustrated templar?" He raked a hand through his hair before clenching his fist again.

Greagoir looked offended. "While I admit there have been… isolated incidents—"

"Isolated?" Anders shouted. He shook his head and turned his back on the templar, stalking the length of the alley. "How can Alistair expect peaceful change when they won't even _admit_ what really happens?" he said, throwing his hands in the air with frustration and storming around a corner. I jerked my head sending Nathaniel and Sigrun after him so I could talk to the Knight-Commander in private.

"It takes a lot to upset Anders, but when something does he has quite a temper," I said. "I should congratulate you. I've seen it less than half a dozen times, and two have been since we bumped into you today."

"Apparently," he said. "Templars who brought him back said he did nothing but laugh and make jokes. I didn't think he was _capable_ of taking anything seriously."

"Why would he show them any more of himself than that?" I asked. "I highly doubt they shared much of their own souls with him."

"True," he admitted. Through clenched teeth he added, "and I owe you an apology. Again. It seems like every time I see you I end up apologizing."

"And you still assume the worst of me every time," I said. "I'm used to it. Tell me, though… what would you have done with them if you got here before they were executed?" He looked at me, opening his mouth once or twice but not saying anything. "Hm." I said finally. "You _know_ I did the right thing. You should thank me for not leaving the decision to you. The Chantry wouldn't have let you execute them, and your conscience wouldn't have let you transfer them somewhere out of the way where they could just do the same thing again. And rightfully so. They deserved nothing better, and probably a lot worse, than what they got."

"Yes," he finally admitted. "I… What they did…" Greagoir looked sick. "I can't believe one person is even capable of doing something like that to another."

"I wouldn't have, either," I said. "And I saw it myself." I sighed. Without realizing it I had started to play with my ring, twirling it around my finger. Greagoir stared at my hands, a strange expression on his face. If I had to name it, I would have guessed pity, although I couldn't imagine why. He _really_ didn't like Anders, apparently. Or pitied Anders for being married to me. Both seemed equally likely.

"What about the other men?" he said. "Your man at the gates said you had more in custody."

"They're yours," I said. "They were caught looting and rioting. I want the owners of what they stole and destroyed compensated. These aren't wealthy people they hurt, its poor families and struggling shopkeepers who only had market stalls. I won't see their businesses destroyed because of this. There's a full list at the guard's headquarters. Once that's done you can take them and do what you see fit." The surviving guards had all looked over the prisoners and confirmed that the ones we executed were also responsible for the fighting, so I didn't have to worry about the idiot looters also being killers, at least. I bit my lip, debating if I should tell him about the lyrium. I decided against it. Since I wasn't supposed to _know_ I suppose it wasn't my responsibility, and I didn't really want to get into another argument since he was fully aware I _did _know the templar's dirty secret. Besides, there was nothing else we could have done. I certainly wasn't about to let the healers do a substandard job to make criminals more comfortable. "The Grand Cleric and Revered Mother are in the Chantry, last I knew. The King, Queen, and Chancellor are all at the Crown and Lion inn. You may want to speak to one of them. Things are changing, and it'll affect you as much as anyone." Probably more, all things considered. He gave me a curious look, nodded and moved to leave.

"You know they won't stand for it," he suddenly said before turning.

"Pardon?"

"You and Anders. Married. You're both mages. From what I've heard the Divine is about ready to excommunicate your Revered Mother, if she gets wind of this it'll be annulled. The Chantry doesn't want to encourage mages to… breed together. They don't even like when you marry normal people." He gave me that strange look again. I guess it was pity, and not based entirely on his obvious dislike of the two of us. That almost made up for him using the word 'breed' as though we were livestock instead of people. "I'm sorry, for whatever it may be worth."

"She can say whatever she wants. It doesn't mean I'll listen to a word of it. If we're such an affront to the Maker he can get down here and tell us to our faces. Until then the rings stay on."

"I suspect, even then, you would have a few arguments at the ready," he said, actually smiling. Well, it was a very, _very_ small smile. We parted and I found Anders shooting lightning at a wall around the corner, Nathaniel and Sigrun watching him dispassionately.

She offered me a shrug. "Seemed better than making him bottle it up and go off in public somewhere," she whispered. While that wasn't quite how things worked I appreciated that they thought it out.

I walked over and stood next to Anders. "I was listening in," he whispered. "He always agrees with you in the end. You'd think the old bastard would just figure out he shouldn't argue from the beginning like everyone else." I chuckled at that. "The lightning is just for fun at this point. Always nice to get a good spell going after recovering from a smite. Care to join me?"

"Sure," I said, coating the wall in ice.

"Always with the ice," he said. "Afraid you can't manage to keep a lightning bolt going as long as me?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Count of three," Anders responded, grinning. He counted and I raised my hands, laughing as the sparks flew against the stone. He was right, after being powerless for so long it did feel great to cast something again.

"You two aren't _actually_ upset, are you?" Nathaniel said after a moment. I suppose the fact that we were both laughing gave it away.

"What?" Anders said, spell dissipating as he turned around.

"Ha!" I shrieked, jumping up. "I win!"

Anders spun back towards me on his heel. "That is _not_ fair," he exclaimed. "Nathaniel distracted me. I demand a rematch!"

"Really?" Nathaniel said. "A _contest?_ You're having some mage contest in a filthy back alley?"

"Would you recommend the town square?" Anders said.

He shook his head. "Sometimes you're like _children_. Is this how you set your room on fire, or do you just do that whenever you take up residence somewhere? Alistair said the carpet was burnt to cinders."

"Don't be absurd," Anders said. "We couldn't figure out how to use the tinderbox. Those things are _dangerous_!"

"The tinderbox," Nathaniel said slowly. "The same kind Oghren can use while drunk? You don't know how they work?"

"Why would we?" I said. "Kind of stupid to buy them for the tower when almost everyone in the building can light a fire by thinking about it."

"It really is like you two grew up in another country sometimes," Nathaniel said.

Anders made a noise suddenly. "Andraste's… bloody… flaming… knickerweasels!" he spit out, looking annoyed.

"_What_?" Nathaniel said, looking at him.

"I don't know, that was some impressive, and strange, cursing," Sigrun said. "I bet it'll be good."

"I _completely_ forgot to make him call me Lord Anders! The _one_ person I was planning to use that on and I _forgot_!" He tugged at his hair and kicked a wall in annoyance, muttering "ow" after.

"You're the one who told him, aren't you?" Nathaniel said to me.

"Maybe?" I admitted. Anders hated even being reminded of all my absurd titles, I suspected he found it more intimidating than he would admit. There's no way he would have realized he acquired one of his own by marrying me without being reminded.

"I'll get you for that, Maggie," Nathaniel said. "First time he pulls that on me I'm offering Ronan my entire monthly stipend and his pick of what I can steal from Oghren to take you down."

"You will not," I said, laughing.

"Why would I do that to you, anyways?" Anders added. "No reason for it. You've outranked everyone but Maggie for years and never once have I seen you rub people's faces in it. Greagoir's entire life is built around reminding some people they're inferior to others. _That's_ why it would be fun!"

"It really is," I admitted. "I do it every time I see him. Only after he gets annoyed when I call him by his first name, though. That makes it better." I grinned. "Seeing Nathaniel verbally slap him today was even more fun than doing it myself, though. The look on his face was _priceless._"

"I loathe people who think they're superior to everyone else," he said. "And that attitude was rolling off him in spades, at least towards the two of you."

We finally made it to the Bann's estate. The staff had been retained just as Alistair promised. I met with the head of the guards first and asked them to assist the city guard until their forces were rebuilt. He seemed happy to have something to do, and it would get us out of the city and back home that much sooner. After arranging to have the staff head over to the inn and collect our belongings and the other wardens I sat on the bed in one of the large rooms and flopped to my back. "How long do you think it would be before anyone noticed if we snuck out and went home?"

"Not very," Anders said. "Avoiding meeting with Eamon and the Grand Cleric?"

"Obviously!" I said. "Come with me?"

"Oh no," Anders laughed. "You really don't want me there. I'll make her call me Lord Anders, and the first time she says something mean to you I'll probably start a war by hitting her with lightning. Nathaniel already told me he's making Aidan and Tobias bring me to the tavern when you two are meeting them just to keep me busy." I made a face at him. "Come on, you'll be _fine_," he said, seeing how nervous I clearly was. "Darkspawn have nightmares about _you_, what's the worst she can do?" He sighed. "Well, besides that. And we already agreed neither of us care what she says."

I rolled my eyes but agreed. It wasn't long after that a maid knocked on our door to let us know the others had arrived and dinner was served. After a few wrong turns we managed to find the dining room and took our seats among the assembled group of Wardens and Denerim guests. "You're wearing robes?" Eamon said, glancing at me.

I looked down and shrugged. "Didn't realize this was supposed to be a formal meal. Left my ballgown at home."

He sighed. "That isn't what I mean. Are you sure you want to… flaunt your," he paused, fingers to his lips, as he looked for the right word "_abilities_ to the Grand Cleric?"

"You know," I said, "I'm _fairly sure_ she knows I'm a mage. She saw me casting spells while trying to save _her_ from darkspawn and set a templar on me in thanks, after all."

"Ah, I'm glad we're all going into this with an open mind," the Chancellor sighed.

* * *

_Hope everyone had as lovely a weekend as I did! I have to share this since it completely made my day. The awesome phoenixandashes drew a picture of Maggie! http :/ phoenixandashes. deviantart. com /#/ d2vvhd6 You'll have to take the spaces out to make it work (since ffnet will take the link out otherwise), but it's worth it! :D_

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews!_


	63. I am sorry Oh, wait no I'm not

"So you _are_ wearing the robes, then?" Eamon said as we prepared to leave for the Chantry, where we would meet with the Grand Cleric.

"Yes," I replied quickly, hoping my tone made it clear this wasn't a subject open for debate. He only sighed and shook his head, so I suppose my message was understood. The two of us, along with Nathaniel, set out across town. "So _how_ drunk will Anders be when I return?" I asked Nathaniel.

"I'm going to say… very," he said, face straight. "I've been out with Tobias before. I think he may be the only Warden we have who could give Oghren a run for his money."

"Oh _good_," I said, sighing. Hopefully he would have the good sense to sober himself up before he passed out. Ser Bryant was standing guard outside the Chantry. He saluted me and gestured with his hand.

"Knight-Commander Greagoir is inside," he whispered when I leaned closer to him. "I wanted to warn you before you went in." I gave him a grateful look and thanked him before opening the large doors. The three of us walked through the Chantry and took seats at a large table in the Revered Mother's private office downstairs. She was already waiting there with Greagoir and the Grand Cleric.

I wasn't entirely able to see why Eamon wanted Nathaniel and I to join him. He repeated what I'd suggested to him at Alistair's wedding almost verbatim, and was currently arguing with the Grand Cleric and Greagoir over allowing children to remain with their parents while they took early lessons on controlling their magic.

"Why am I here?" I snapped at them, tired of hearing the Chantry officials argue about how children couldn't be trusted to remain at home.

"Pardon?" Eamon said.

"_Why_ am I _here_?" I repeated. "As far as I can tell this is strictly between the Chantry and the Crown. I'm one of over a dozen Banns in Ferelden, which makes me only marginally more important than a farmer, and the Grey Wardens have no say in national politics. No one is even speaking to me. _Why am I here?_ Is it now a matter of national security that I no longer get a full night of sleep?"

"Because this is _your fault_," the Grand Cleric snapped. "Things were _fine_. Everyone understood how dangerous mages are. Damn that treaty, if the Grey Wardens had just left you in the tower where you belong we wouldn't be here!"

"Oh, I _am_ sorry for ending the sodding _blight_," I snapped back at her. "I guess I should have let the archdemon trample over the whole nation so you wouldn't have to deal with people questioning the lies they've been fed for generations!" I crossed my arms and scowled at her. "We should have let the darkspawn have you. I think you'd get along fantastically."

"Please, we don't need to argue," Mother Moira said calmly. "Commander, what the Her Grace means is that your actions are the reason people are finally questioning how mages are treated. If you speak for any compromise we reach the people of Ferelden will listen. You must know this."

Greagoir sighed loudly. "Although it _pains_ me to admit it, the Revered Mother is right. For reasons I can't quite understand the people adore you. If we don't have your support, especially if it becomes known our decision was made in your Banneron, no one will follow it. The chaos will continue."

"For reasons you _can't quite understand?" _Nathaniel said, shocked. "Does the Chantry teach all of you how to display this level of denial? Is admitting a mage saved Ferelden _that_ painful?" He shook his head. "Maker's breath, she killed my _father_ and within days of knowing her I realized she wouldn't have done so without reason. You've known Maggie since she was a child, you _must_ realize how absurd all this talk sounds."

"I really must agree with Warden Nathaniel," Eamon said in a measured voice. "We can't expect to reach a peaceful compromise if you continue to pretend the last seven years didn't happen. A mage built an army from nothing after the Grey Wardens were obliterated at Ostagar. The same mage led the charge against the archdemon, ended our civil war, _and _defeated the darkspawn attacking Amaranthine, saving the city and everyone in it in the process. It seems any reasonable person would understand _exactly_ why the people of Ferelden love the woman responsible for all of those things." He shook his head, looking across the table with disdain. "That she also saved the circle from abominations running rampant when the templars refused _and_ discovered the resting place of _Andraste's ashes_ should have at least earned her the respect of the Chantry, not this… bizarre contempt you insist on showing." He set his hands on the table, fingers arched. "If you refuse to act in a reasonable manor the Crown sees no reason to continue these negations. We'll simply implement our plans as their Majesties see fit."

"Fine," the Grand Cleric said in a clipped tone. "_Commander Amell_, what changes would be required to have your support."

"First," I said, "It's Commander Margaret. Grey Wardens don't use their last names. And second, if I was going to use my last name, it is now Mac Greine, not Amell. Don't insult me by pretending you're not fully aware of that." She narrowed her eyes at me, I narrowed mine right back at her. "So. If you want to parade me out as the mage who helped everyone reach this compromise, this is what I'll need. I won't agree to anything that rips children from their parents. I won't agree to anything that limits how many people can seek a position outside the Circle of Magi, be it in the army, as a knight, in a guard force, as a healer, or anything else people may wish to hire mages for."

"I think we understa—" Greagoir said, speaking over me.

"_I'm not finished!"_ I snapped at him. Eamon and Nathaniel sighed. "I'm not agreeing to anything where the Chantry profits from the work of mages while the people performing the labor see nothing. There's a word for that: _slavery_. Something tells me Andraste wouldn't exactly approve. I'm not agreeing to anything where people will continue to be _forced_ to undergo the rite of tranquility. If they want to take the Harrowing let them, and _I don't care_ if that doesn't leave enough people to run your stores and clean the halls. Ripping everything that makes someone a person away from them is _barbaric_." I was getting louder and louder, nearly yelling at this point. "And I want apostates to be given the same chance instead of killed out of hand. Once someone passes the Harrowing I want them to have complete freedom, like anyone else in Ferelden. The right to leave, buy a home, get married, and start a family. Keep track of addresses if you must, but I won't support any decision that continues to keep innocent people locked away as criminals. And I want any templar who forces himself on a mage to be hung, same as he would if he forced himself on a non-mage." I dropped my voice back to a conversational tone and folded my hands on the table. "I won't agree to anything less."

"You _are_ aware of the meaning of the word 'compromise,' Margaret, aren't you?" Greagoir said drily.

"I am," I said. "Those are the things I will not compromise on. I would _like_ to see the order of templars abolished completely, the Circle tower torn to the ground and replaced with a memorial dedicated to the memory of everyone who suffered and died there, and the education of mages handled completely by other mages, with no input from or connection to the Chantry, including the complete elimination of the Harrowing. But those points I can _compromise_ on."

"You would financially _cripple_ the Chantry!" the Grand Cleric said. "Without the money received by those who hire healers and the crafts of the tranquil—"

"So, you're saying the Chantry can't function without its _slaves_?" I snapped. "I _am_ sorry. Oh, wait... no I'm not. Find another way. I don't care." I smiled at her. "Besides, think of the money saved when mages move out of the tower to live their lives. No worries of keeping them fed, clothed, and housed until they die."

"_That_ I will not agree to," the Grand Cleric said. "_Never_. Mages are dangerous, they can't be allowed to simply roam free across Ferelden! I'll agree to let them leave if they have a position offered to them, we can even accept giving all mages the opportunity to work outside the tower. I'll _even_ agree to the marriages, but not simply setting mages free without purpose or goal."

"And their children?" I said, staring at her. "Would you support ripping newborns from their mothers' arms? Or would they be allowed to raise their own children like anyone else in the nation?"

Her composure cracked, very briefly. "No," she said finally. "No, we don't need to continue that. Mages take no vow of celibacy, I- I think we can find a way to allow them to raise their own children." A moment later the stony façade was back as though it had never left.

"Your Grace…" Greagoir began.

"I've _made my decision," _she snapped at him. He stiffened in his chair and nodded.

"Fine," I said. "As long as _every mage_ is given a chance to look for a position outside the tower, and not stopped from accepting if something is offered to them, I can accept that."

"Some apprentices are too dangerous to take the Harrowing," Greagoir said.

"Oh, that's garbage," I replied. "There's not a thing I can do now that I couldn't have done as an apprentice. The Harrowing doesn't open any skills up to people that wouldn't have been available before. And I cleaned up after Uldred, plenty of those blood mages were unharrowed apprentices."

"Margaret, you must admit as a templar this is my area of expertise," he said.

"Greagoir, you must admit as a Warden I've spent far more time working alongside apostates who have never set foot in the tower, much less been harrowed, than anyone in Ferelden. There is nothing I can do they can't. It exists to provide peace of mind that a mage can resist the temptation of a demon, nothing more. It makes _no difference_ in what they can do after." He made a face at me but didn't argue.

"All right," Mother Moira said. "We've reached an agreement. Adult mages will be allowed to take jobs outside the tower, or the new smaller Circles we'll build across Ferelden, at will and without Chantry interference as to who goes and who hires mages. They will also be allowed to marry and raise families if they wish. Wonderful." She beamed at everyone, clearly pleased something had been decided on. "What do we think about having mages stationed at Chantries as healers for the poor?"

"I'm all for it," I said. "As long as they're paid fairly, like with everything else."

"The crown will provide a partial stipend," Eamon said. "We can ask the local lords to make up the difference."

The Grand Cleric nodded. "I actually like the idea as well," she admitted. "It would certainly help the poor of Ferelden. Many peoples' lives would be vastly improved if they can see a healer when they need to."

I nodded, pleased I seemed to be getting my way. It wouldn't last, though. To my surprise, although they gave in on letting mages keep their own children, neither the Grand Cleric nor Greagoir would budge on taking other people's children away. "Absolutely not," he said. "Magic is dangerous. They need to be around templars and mages trained in teaching them how to control it. Parents are not capable."

"I'm not giving in on this," I said. "_This_ is why people keep rioting."

"I think you will, Commander," the Grand Cleric said, eyeing me.

"Then you don't know much about me," I snapped.

"I know you want to stay married," she said, smiling at me. I could hear Eamon and Mother Moira gasp and Nathaniel groan under his breath. Even the Knight-Commander looked at the Grand Cleric with obvious shock and horror when she said that.

"That's it," I jumped from my chair. "Nathaniel, we're _done_ here."

"What _will_ your husband say," she went on, ignoring me. "Knowing your marriage was annulled because you couldn't _compromise_."

Nathaniel and I looked at each other. He noticed my hands developing a thin coating of ice and put a hand on my arm. I could only imagine how Anders would react to my selling out every mage in Ferelden for the two of us. "He'll probably say," I finally managed to hiss out, "that I should havehit you with enough lightning to rip open a hole in the Veil."

"I think he _will_ enjoy telling everyone who will listen about your sad attempt at blackmail, though," Nathaniel added.

"I know I will," I added, turning and walking out. "That could have gone better," I whispered as we left.

"Oh, I don't know. No one died. I didn't expect that."

"So glad you have such confidence in my self-control, Nathaniel," I replied. I glanced at my hand on the railing as we walked up the stairs, looking at the torchlight glinting off the stones in my rings. "Oh well, it was nice while it lasted."

"I'm sorry," Nathaniel said. "It really isn't right."

"It's not," I agreed. "I'm pretty used to it, though." Someone was walking behind us, I could hear rushed footsteps on the stairs and labored breathing.

"Do all Grey Wardens walk so _fast_?" Eamon said, finally catching up to us. I stopped so he could catch his breath. We didn't even realize it was him. "She hoped you wouldn't call her bluff, but not quite in that manner," he said after a moment.

"If she thinks something like that is worth threatening me over, bluff or not, I don't want to speak with her," I said. "I hoped she'd be different. It seemed to be going great. She's just like all the rest, though. I'm not going out and saying I agree to any compromise that still pulls children from their homes."

"I wouldn't ask you to," Eamon said. "You don't think I know what parents will do to keep their children? That's the biggest problem of all right now." I nodded and squeezed his arm. "No, we'll manage this ourselves and she can agree or face treason charges. Trying to compromise was a courtesy to her. She should count her blessings that no one was killed and Alistair didn't get hurt in your fight or she'd be on the gallows."

"So what now?" I asked him.

"Now we do what we want. I'll look into setting up schools for mages, and I'm going leave for the Circle in a few days to meet with the First Enchanter and have them send mages to every Chantry in the area for the children."

I thought for a moment. We had made it outside at this point. "Give us a second?" I said to Eamon as I pulled Nathaniel aside. He looked at me. "Do we really need a house in the City of Amaranthine, one three hours outside the city, and _another_ half a day away?"

"No," he said. "I was going to tell you we should let the staff go and have the place here put in mothballs or sold. We don't need it and it really isn't suited to us, anyways. It's a nice house, but it doesn't have the training and practice areas we would need, and it doesn't have the room to add them on. It'll be expensive to keep it up just for the rare times as anyone stays overnight in the city."

I nodded. "I had an idea."

He looked at me and smiled. "I'm not surprised. Might as well. Selling it would be near-impossible, who could afford a place like that? It would certainly make us look generous, and we save a fortune on the staff."

"Good," I said, finally smiling. We returned to Eamon. "I'll donate the Bann's residence in Amaranthine as a location for a school," I said. "Make sure people know it was donated by the Grey Wardens, not me. That's important." I couldn't stop grinning at the idea. It was a comfortable estate. Five stories, nice furniture and plush carpets over shining wood floors. The windows on two sides looked out at the port and ocean, the other two across the city. Growing up in a house like that would have been nice.

Eamon stared at me. "That's… very generous, Maggie," he said.

I shrugged. "We've got the Keep less than three hours from here, and the Peak is half a day's ride from the city. Work there should be done soon, too. We don't need it, and it'll cost a lot to keep up."

"Well, it's a relief to me. I have one less thing to worry about now before I go back downstairs and tell them exactly what's going to happen now. I don't suppose I could entice you to join us again?"

"Absolutely not," I said. "You can tell her I said I wouldn't spit on her if her hair was on fire. And I'm in a mood where I just might set her hair on fire." I made a face. "No. Tomorrow I'll reassign the knights and guards at the estate between our forces and the city, and we'll either leave after lunch or the next morning."

"Thank the Maker," Nathaniel said.

Nathaniel and I walked down the Chantry stairs then. He left to return to the estate and fill the others in on our plan while I went to hunt down Anders. Seeing a couple Wardens out on night guard duty I waved before continuing on. Light was spilling from the broad tavern windows into the street. I pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of a large group of people singing, badly. Oh Maker, not only were they all singing, but they were singing the most _miserable_ song to come out of the Orlesian occupation.

_ Oh, well do I remember son, the year of eighty-eight.  
I rose in vengeance with the boys to battle again' fate.  
We were hunted through the mountains for our loyalty to the queen,  
And that, my boy, is the reason why I left old Amaranthine. _

_At least I missed the verses where his crops failed, his sheep died, the landlord set his home on fire since he didn't have money for the taxes, and his wife died_, I thought. I glanced around the room. It was full of very drunk locals, and at the center of it sat Anders, Tobias, and Aidan. "Uh-oh," I heard Tobias say, laughing. "Your wife's here!"

"I still don't believe it," one old man in sailor wools said. "Hero of Ferelden has better taste than this grinning idiot."

"Not really, no," I said to him, slipping through the crowd to stand with the Wardens, kissing Anders on the cheek. "And really, 'Old Amaranthine'? Is it 'cry in your ale' night?"

Anders laughed at that. "It's been old rebel songs all night." He gestured to the bartender who handed him another pint which was quickly pressed into my hand. "You've missed 'Wind that Shakes the Barley' _and '_Foggy Dew'. Both versions!"

"And 'Rocky Road to Denerim'," Tobias added. "I think I heard someone singing 'Women of Ferelden', too."

"Maker's breath," I groaned. "Just what I need. More misery."

"The meeting didn't go well?" Anders asked.

"The Grand Cleric tried to _blackmail_ me!" I said. I must have been talking too loud, everyone in the room seemed to fall quiet at that.

Anders narrowed his eyes, oblivious to our audience. "What happened?" he said.

Well, I had promised to tell everyone I saw about it. "She told me the Chantry would never allow children to stay with their parents. And if I didn't agree she would annul our marriage!"

"What did you do?" he said quietly.

"I told Nathaniel we were done there and left." I could hear conversation begin to pick up around us. That the word "Chantry" seemed to be the most popular feature of all of them didn't escape my attention.

"That's my girl," Anders said, nodding. "You should have hit her with lightning."

I laughed at that. "You know, she tried to say 'oh, what will your husband say if you refuse?'" He raised an eyebrow. "I told her 'he'd say I should have hit you with lightning!'" Anders roared with laughter at that. "I mean, where are we, _Orlais_? Blackmail!" I shook my head. "I'm offended she even thought it would work." I leaned over to him and whispered "Eamon said she was bluffing," making sure no one outside our immediate circle could hear us.

"But everyone who just heard you…" Tobias said, before shaking his head. "Devious, boss. Very devious. Well done."

"So what happens now?" Anders said, handing me another drink.

"Same thing that would have before. Eamon said meeting them was a courtesy. They don't have much choice. I mean, she had a templar attack us, that right there is treason by itself. High treason, actually, since we were engaged in our duties as Wardens at the time. Since Alistair was fighting with us and she put _his_ life at risk it's, what, double-high-treason? Super-treason?"

"Super-treason," Anders laughed. "I like that." He pulled me up onto his lap, I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"I gave them the city estate," I said. "For a mage school. We don't need it, the Keep is only a couple hours ride from here. Oh, and we're leaving either tomorrow afternoon or the next morning. The guards there will be reassigned to the city force, the knights to our service."

"Good," Anders said. "That attack made me nervous, Nathaniel and I were talking about it. We want to go over the maps at home." The same thing had been on my mind.

"So what, _exactly,_ is going to happen to mages?" Aidan slurred. He had clearly been trying to keep up with Tobias and Anders, and failing. "I know it doesn't change anything for me but… I want to _know_."

I did my best to explain our plans, despite the drink. He stared at me when I was finished. "Aidan?" I said after a moment of him watching me blankly.

"That's… good," he said finally. "Good." He folded his hands and pressed them to his mouth. "I… wow. I can't believe it," he looked ready to cry.

"Woah," I said, jumping down and giving him a hug. "Don't do that. This is great, we should be happy."

"I know," he said. "I just… I'm happy, but they'll ruin it for us. They always do."

"Not this time," Anders said.

"You think?" Aidan said, pulling back from me and looking up at Anders.

He shrugged. "It's them against almost every man and woman in Ferelden, including the nobility. If those same stubborn bastards could kick Orlais out they can certainly shake up the Chantry." He laughed and added "Besides, Andraste was born in Ferelden, what can they do, excommunicate her entire nation!"

Aidan nodded, smiling. People were pouring into the tavern. A group of giggling young women entered and I saw Aidan and Tobias snap to attention. "Um…" Aidan said.

"Go," Anders laughed. We both laughed watching the two of them straighten their hair and clothes before sauntering across the room to the women. It was just as well, though, since the small band began to play a reel and Anders grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the back end of the room. Several other couples were already there, two people unlinked their hands so we could join the spinning circle of dancers. We stayed out for several songs, until I heard a bell ring. "Time," called the bartender.

Anders ran over to join the crush of people hoping for one last drink before they closed for the evening.

Returning triumphant, he took a seat with Aidan and Tobias, who were each currently bragging about their lives as Grey Wardens to two young women. I went over and, not seeing a free chair, perched on Anders' knee. "I could get used to this," he laughed, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"Hey boss," Tobias called. I looked over. "How many darkspawn were there the other night?"

"When the king fought with us?" I said, realizing what he was doing.

"Exactly," Aidan said. Both of the girls exchanged an arched-eyebrow glance, clearly impressed.

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Fifty? There were maybe a dozen when we got there, two dozen in the second wave, and then another dozen chasing the Chancellor's coach." I looked at Anders. "Does that sound about right?"

"I thought it was closer to sixty," he said.

"Wow…" one of the girls gasped. "You must be so _brave" _she said to Aidan, resting her fingertips on his arm. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Anders didn't have the restraint to do the same.

"Grey Wardens do what we must," Aidan said in a serious tone, staring into her eyes. _Oh, Maker_, it was all I could do not to laugh.

"Time to go?" Anders whispered into my ear.

"Absolutely," I said, adding "goodnight, all," as I hopped to my feet.

Anders and I stumbled our way through the street. An old man who had left at the same time as us was singing. Anders joined him.

_ 'Tis well I do remember that bleak Firstfall day  
When the Chevalier and the landlord came to drive us all away  
They set the roof on fire with their cursed Orlesian spleen  
And that's another reason why I left old Amaranthine_

"Oh, knock it off," I said. "That's _miserable_."

He laughed at me. "It really is, isn't it? All those songs are. It must have been a horrible time to be alive." He paused for a moment. "You think that people will say that about now?"

"Maybe?" I replied. "I mean, no one is going to look back fondly on the blight."

"True," he agreed before launching into 'The Parting Glass'.

I heard something crash behind us. Anders stopped singing and dropped my hand as we both spun around, hands ready to grab weapons. Knight-Commander Greagoir was stumbling out of an alley. He fell on the ground. "Oh," Greagoir said, seeing us. "Hello."

"Maker's breath," Anders said, looking at him. "You're drunk as a skunk."

"No," he said, not very convincingly.

"Sober him up," I said to Anders.

"Not a _chance_," Anders said. "I'm not casting _anything_ on a drunk templar. He might sense the magic and give me a smite as a thank you." He walked over to the templar. "Come on, on your feet," Anders said, helping him up. "Where are you staying?"

Greagoir looked at him blankly. "Inside?" he answered eventually.

"Oh, _that's_ helpful," Anders said. He looked at me and I shrugged.

"Bann's estate is closer than the Chantry," I said. "If we have to carry him I'll pick the closer one."

"This has been a _very_ strange day," Anders said as I walked to the other side of the templar, helping to hold him upright. "Come on, Greagoir, looks like you're bunking with us tonight. Don't worry, our cooks are much better than the Chantry."

"That's Knight-Commander," he muttered.

"Well, fantastic," Anders muttered. "Finally get a chance to use my title and he's so drunk I don't think he knows who I _am_."

"Yes I do," Greagoir said, sounding slightly more coherent now that we had him up and moving. "Anders. Healer. Escaped… seven times? Grey Warden. Married to Maggie." Huh. I'd _never_ heard him call me anything but Margaret.

"I'm impressed," Anders said.

"Not _that_ drunk," Greagoir replied.

"Yes, actually, you are," Anders said with a chuckle. "You smell like you took a bath in a brewer's tanks."

Greagoir made a snorting sound. "Don't be rude," he said. "You're drunk, too."

"I am indeed," he agreed cheerfully. "But not so much that _I _forgot where _I'm_ supposed to be sleeping." He sighed as the templar started to veer off towards a wall. "No, no, come on, straight lines. See the big building. Walk towards there. If there's more than one, well, aim for the closest."

"I can see it," he muttered. "You live _there_?" His words were heavily slurred.

"Only for another day," Anders said. "Maggie gave it to the Circle, it's going to be a school."

"Oh," he said flatly, looking at the building again. "That's nice. She means well. Be good to her."

"Don't worry, I am," Anders said, meeting my eyes with a look of confusion. Greagoir apparently didn't know, or forgot, I was standing right there.

"Good," he mumbled. "I… I should be nicer to her. Just, old habits. You understand." He tried to pat Anders on the shoulder and nearly fell over in the process. Once upright again he started mumbling something about 'everything changing' and how he was an old man without a place anymore. We finally managed to make it to the estate, a servant on night shift helping us get the Knight-Commander into an empty bedroom. He was snoring as soon as we got him onto the bed. I was sober enough to grab a piece of paper from the desk in the bedroom and write a quick note so he would at least know where he was when he woke up. Anders and the servant set about getting him out of his armor while I did that. When I turned back and saw him in just the plain shirt, blankets pulled up, I was struck by how much _smaller_ he seemed. And, well, older. It was strange. The Knight-Commander had been a constant in my life for years. Like I could expect the sun to rise and winter to be cold, I could expect him there to complain about whatever I was doing, as unchanging as the sky. Realizing he actually _was_ an old man, or very close to being one, was strange.

"Well then," Anders said, looking at the unconscious templar and scratching his head. "I'm going to say we go to our room and pretend this didn't happen."

"Agreed," I said, turning and closing the door as we left.

* * *

_The song is a Fereldenified verse of the lovely but extremely depressing Irish ballad Skibbereen. And although last call is a distinctly modern phenomena the bar in Redcliffe did have a bell on it, which would indicate a similar practice most likely existed in Ferelden, if only to let patrons know when they were closing so the staff could sleep._

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews! I love you all!  
_


	64. That almost never happens, though!

"Robes!" Anders said as soon as the door clicked shut.

I laughed and dropped my belt and shoulder cape to the floor before yanking the robes over my head. "What about you?"

"In good time," he replied, swiftly picking me up off the ground and carrying me to the bed.

"Oh, not fair," I said. "I'm naked, you should be, too. Maybe I want to—" Whatever I might have wanted to do was forgotten as he grabbed my thighs and pushed them apart, diving between my legs.

"What?" Anders said, looking up from the foot of the bed at me.

"I… uh…. You're not wasting time, are you?"

"Nope," he replied before ducking his head back down.

It didn't take long for me to start moaning and clutching at his hair. "Anders," I whined. He slipped two fingers into me and I shivered, arching my back. He used his free arm to keep me pinned to the bed, holding my bucking hips down as magic poured from the fingers inside me. I howled, head thrown back, as he looked up and grinned at me.

"I will _never _get tired of hearing you make that sound," he said before jumping to his feet, leaving me gasping for air on the bed. A moment later his belt was on the floor and his robes were sailing across the room.

I sat up and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him on top of me. "Now!_"_

"Is that an order?" he said, grinning.

"_Yes!" _I said, laughing as I hooked my heels over his hips.

He laughed huskily before sliding into me. I moaned and matched the movement of his hips with my own. He rolled off me onto his back after a little while, grabbing me and roughly pulling me towards him. Realizing what he had in mind I climbed on top of him, quickly angling myself and sliding down over him. Leaning back on my heels I braced myself with my hands behind me on his thighs. Anders groaned and moved his hips up against me. I gasped out his name when his fingers pressed against me where we met, my head tossed back. He attempted to match my rhythm but my hips were moving erratically, faster and faster, as though with a mind of their own. "Oh, Maker," I gasped out before falling forward. Anders grabbed my hips to keep me moving while I moaned and nibbled on his ear.

"Hold tight," he said, grinning. I giggled and wrapped my arms around his shoulders before he rolled over so I was on my back.

"Ohhhh," I groaned.

"Good?" Anders asked, voice low.

"Y- yes," I stuttered. He ran a finger across my lips, I opened my mouth and pulled it in between my teeth briefly. My hips were bucking against his, I reached up, grabbing the headboard as my back arched.

"Maggie," Anders moaned, clamping his hands over mine. I shuddered and cried out, shrieking his name.

"Love you," I whispered, looking up at him. Anders bent over, roughly kissing me. I felt his teeth sink into my lip, muffling his final groan. Exhausted, we curled up side by side, his arm wrapped around my waist and breath hot on my neck, and fell asleep.

Ever the morning person, Anders was up before me. I started to pull myself from bed and he pushed me back down, pulling the blankets up. "You've been running nonstop for days," he said. "Sleep in an hour, no one will care."

Someone was singing when I finally managed to make it downstairs.

_Farewell to Dane's Landing Stage  
River Hafter, fare thee well  
I am bound for Neromenian,  
A place I know right well. _

I made it to the main room in time to join in the chorus.

_So fare thee well, my own true love  
When I return, united we will be  
It's not the leaving of Highever that grieves me  
But my darling when I think of thee_

"Hey boss, I didn't know you could sing," Tobias said cheerfully. He was sitting with Anders, Hal and Aidan eating breakfast at a small table.

"She _can't_," Anders said with a smile. "Please don't encourage her otherwise." Tobias and Aidan laughed when I rolled my eyes. Anders jumped up and made a show of pulling a chair out for me, kissing my cheek when I sat down.

I laughed and made a plate. "Any sign of our guest?"

"Not yet," Anders said. "I went by, still snoring away. He was pretty drunk, though."

"Who is it?" Aidan asked.

"Knight-Commander Greagoir," I said. "We found him in… a bad state last night in the street. He didn't know where he was staying so we brought him here."

"_What_?" Aidan looked panicked. "You brought _him_ here? Are you insane? Have you forgotten you're a _blood mage_?" He dropped his voice down to a whisper with that. "Maker's breath, so am I now! He'll cut us in half." Hal's head snapped to attention.

"Well not if you don't _tell him_," I said. "Keep your voice down! It's not like we wear signs."

He made a face. "If I find myself with my insides on the floor I'll be _very_ mad at you, Maggie."

"That seems fair," I said. I turned to our newest recruit. "It's allowed by Warden rules," I told him. "None of us would use another person's blood or control minds, though. Just another weapon against the darkspawn. You have nothing more to fear from us than you would from any other mage." He nodded, still looking nervous. "I know it's a scary thing, but you'll see, we only use it against the darkspawn, and since we're actually hurting ourselves with every spell it's a last-resort method. Face them a few more times and you'll understand they deserve all the hurt we can heap on them."

"Well, there have always been rumors about you," he said. "And I can't argue that you all seem to know how to do your jobs." He shrugged. "Never much believed everything the Chantry said, anyways." He took another bite of his breakfast, apparently unconcerned. "So, we're allowed seconds, right?" We all laughed and I told him he could have thirds if he wanted. Maker knows I usually did.

Once we finished eating I tracked down Nathaniel and we set up the new assignments for the estate's staff. The knights would stay until templars could arrive so no one broke in and emptied the place, but the guards would join the city forces immediately. That kept us busy until lunch. After that it seemed like everyone needed something from me. It was questions about training, mostly, and theories on the darkspawn, but also the occasional personal issue. Yes, you can take a week leave when we get home to visit your parents, yes you can try for a mabari, no you can't move a girl you met here into the Keep…

I pressed the heel of my palms to my eyes and groaned. We wouldn't make it home before dark if we left today. Another night in the city, then. At least someone had forwarded my mail on. A letter from Alain in Orlais was included. Excited, I tore it open. "Nathaniel!" I shouted, scanning it. I had been hoping for gossip but this was much better.

"What is it?" he said, jogging over from where he had been playing a game of chess with Sigrun and took a seat.

"Alain must have ran with my idea. We've been invited to send a delegation to the first official Thedas Warden summit. It'll be in Jader, in the fall."

"Why _Jader_?" he said. It did, initially, seem an odd choice. That wasn't the nicest city in Orlais, not by far. In fact, I've often heard people describe it as "more Ferelden than Orlais" which, while not a problem for me, wouldn't put their best face forward. There was a reason behind it, though.

"He said he picked it because it's almost exactly in the middle of Orlais, Ferelden, Nevarra, and the Free Marches, as well as on the Waking Sea so travel from Antiva, Rivain and the Anderfels should be easier."

"That does make sense," Nathaniel said. "Jader is just beyond the Frostbacks. I think a boat would be easier than trying to cross the mountains. How many are we to send? Just you, or…?"

"He said no more than half a dozen, but requested both Oghren and I be among them since we can talk about the archdemon with everyone."

"Makes sense," Nathaniel said. "If you go I should stay behind and keep things running. I assume you're bringing Anders, he's done all the research on the Architect's magic and they'd definitely want to know about that, so please leave me Aidan and Moira. They're the best healers after him."

"Anders also speaks Antivan and Orlesian, which could help. We both speak Tevinter, and so will every other Circle-trained mage there. If every country includes at least one that could make communication fairly easy. Tobias and Ronan, maybe. Or Tobias, Rose, and Roland. Although I don't think Rose will have much in interest in going to Orlais."

"Nor do I," he agreed. "She talks about Orlais like my father did. Tobias, though?"

I nodded. "He's been really going out of the way to do extra work and stand out so I wanted to reward him. I think he'd enjoy the trip, and he's commented that he'd like to meet the Wardens outside Ferelden."

"Fair enough," Nathaniel said. "Maybe Dermott, Arthur, and Tobias. Arthur _loves _to travel. But he'll be grumpy if you don't bring Dermott."

"This is my fault, isn't it?" I laughed. "Having to keep track of which Wardens are involved so they don't complain about being split up."

"Absolutely," he said with a smile. "You started it." Nathaniel looked thoughtful and shrugged after a moment. "It isn't a big deal, though. I suspect we're far more lenient than the other branches, but it doesn't cause any problems for us. It might as we grow, but we can deal with that in the future. For now…there's a lot of wisdom in doing small things like that to keep everyone happy. Between the nightmares, the darkspawn, and the Calling we don't exactly have it easy otherwise, and happy people work harder."

"True," I said.

"Anyways, we don't have to decide who goes right away." He paused. "Oh, and a couple of the apostates want to come back with us tomorrow." He leaned towards me and added, in a lower voice "don't worry, it's not the one who fixed Anders' leg."

"That's fine," I said. "Have them join us today. They can spend some time around everyone. If casually discussing fighting and potential death doesn't scare them off they should be fine."

He nodded and left, gesturing to Sigrun who followed him from the room. "You _are_ a busy woman," I heard someone say behind me. Turning, I saw a very haggard looking Knight-Commander watching me from the door. "I've passed by this doorway no less than a dozen times hoping to speak with you. Every time you've had a line of people asking you things or been issuing orders left and right."

I stood up and walked over to him. "You look a little under the weather. Can I try something?"

He waved me on with an open hand and I raised my palm, trying out Anders' hangover spell. He'd been teaching me but I'd yet to have a chance to try it. "Better?"

"Actually, yes," he said, sounding shocked. "I wasn't aware you knew enough healing to develop new spells."

"Oh, I can't take credit for that one," I said. "It is entirely Anders' invention. He has been teaching me a bit of healing, though. He's adamant on everyone being a passable healer."

"Are you not his superior officer?"

"I am," I said. "But he's the Senior Warden among mages. I have too much to do without worrying about training everyone, too. So, if he says everyone needs to at least know enough to be a field healer I won't undermine him by making myself an exception. I do usually fight with him, but there's always a chance he could be the injured one." I think I may have shuddered at the idea. "I really only train people in the Dalish warrior-mage spells since I know them best, but he's almost to the point of taking over that, too."

"I've never even heard of such a thing," he said, taking a seat at the table.

"Probably because I was the first one for hundreds of years." I told him about the phylactery we found in the Brecilian forest.

"You trusted some… strange phylactery in a crumbling ruin?" he said, shocked. "What if it was a prison?"

"Oh, I found plenty of those, too," I said. "You can tell the difference. Well, a mage can, at least. I smashed every one of them. Figured it was better if I broke it and killed whatever was in there than just letting it stay put until some idiot came across it and got themselves killed." I paused, thinking. "Actually, you know those statues of Andraste that were in the chapel of the Tower? I found one there! It was in the base. Someone knocked the statue over before I got to it. What a mess _that_ would have been if I'd left it where it was. You know what I don't get, though? Why not _kill_ the monster instead of trapping it? Silly, really. Just makes for more work down the line."

"Not everyone relishes the idea of trying to kill a Revenant," he said. "In fact, I would say _no one_ does, save perhaps you."

"Oh, it's not like I enjoyed it," I said. "They're nasty bastards. Worse than a lot of emissaries. Still safer to just kill them, though. Once you get a system down they're not bad, same as with everything else. Freeze it, then crushing prison, and then set someone with a sword or axe to hack at it, repeat as necessary, and you're done. Leaving them sitting around seems irresponsible."

"That actually seems… very reasonable," he said slowly.

"I haven't managed to stay among the living this long by being an _idiot_, Greagoir."

"In my defense," he said, "I never claimed you were. Just mad."

I shrugged. "Maybe I am. If so we all are, though. I don't think it's really possible to be a _sane_ Grey Warden and actually wake up functional, much less happy. You're either a bit off to begin with, or you go mad not long after. Otherwise I think we'd all be running through the streets in rags babbling Warden secrets and arguing with the paving-stones."

As if to prove my point an argument broke out across the room. "Idiot," someone called. "The boat was called Rebel Queen."

"It was not," came the reply. "That song's from before there _was_ a Rebel Queen."

"Oh yeah?"

"Hey," I shouted. "The boat _was_ called Lady Shayna but they changed the lyrics to Rebel Queen during the war." Loghain had told me about that one, I only knew the old lyrics and he corrected me when I was teaching the song to Leliana one night at camp.

"Thank you, my dear," Anders called, laughing and pointing at Tobias.

"Oh, you just sided with him because he's your husband!"

"Did not," I called back. "Got that information from Loghain Mac Tir himself. And I believe I said you were _both_ right!"

Laughter then. "All right, boss, you win!"

I waved my hand. "Or we just get in screaming matches about hundred year old folk songs," I sighed. "Still beats the rags and paving stones thing, though." I was waiting very patiently for him to say whatever was on his mind, since it seemed extremely obvious that something was. It wasn't as though we were such dear friends he would stick around half the day to say goodbye to me and wish me a pleasant trip home. Isolde put her head on my lap and I scratched her ears.

"That's a beautiful dog," he said conversationally. "Mabari?"

"Are we in Ferelden?" I laughed. "I started a kennel for us. I had one during the blight, his owner died in Ostagar and he imprinted on me. Managed to hunt me down after the battle and never left my side. The Commander in Orlais laughed, but really, they're fantastic to work with, especially for mages and archers. Dane didn't s-u-r-v-i-v-e after he b-i-t the a-r-c-h-d-e-m-o-n." I wasn't entirely sure just _how_ smart Isolde was, but I was pretty confident she couldn't spell, and didn't want to worry her needlessly. "Isolde is almost a year old."

"Isn't that the name of the Chancellor's wife?"

"The very same. Horrid woman. I can count her redeeming qualities on a single finger." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, for one thing, she's racist. _Really_ racist. Some of the comments I've heard her make about elves?" I shook my head. "The comments she's made about mages are even worse, though. I mean, her _son_ is a mage! She can't call us all demons and monsters on one hand and say 'oh, but not my baby' on the other." I sighed. "But that's nothing. What she did to Alistair? I could _kill_ her for it. Not even with magic, I'd love nothing more than to strangle her with my bare hands." Greagoir raised his eyebrows. "Before she sent him packing to the Chantry at twelve she made him live in the barn, an _actual _barn, sleeping in the hay with the animals. Like he was no better than an animal! I mean, as a Fereldan I can't believe she would dare do that to King Maric's son, bastard or no. But to do that to _any _child is horrid. That poor man was so desperate for any kind of family that he embraced a golddigging harpy as his sister even though when they met all she did was insult him, blame him for their mother's death, and ask for money! Eamon's still so wracked with guilt for allowing it that he's working himself half to death as Chancellor, doing the job of a dozen men. As he should be for letting Isolde get away with that! He's lucky Alistair's just about the most forgiving man in Thedas. I certainly wouldn't have forgiven him if it wasn't for the king telling me to let it go." I made another face. "Horrible woman."

"That doesn't quite explain the dog, though."

"What?" I looked at him. "Oh, well, because they're both bitches. And it _is_ a pretty name. The first she approved of."

The Knight-Commander stared at me in shock for a moment. I suppose people didn't curse around him very often. Then, to my surprise, he burst out laughing. "That's _very_ clever," he said after a moment. I grinned and fell silent, petting my dog and hoping that was a sign he was ready to say whatever was on his mind.

"I have to admit," he said finally when it became rather obvious I wasn't going to keep talking just to fill silence, "I feel rather foolish."

I shrugged. "We've all had nights like that. I've got some second-hand tales from a night in Highever I still don't remember where I apparently made quite a spectacle of myself. I won't embarrass either of us by telling them, but let's just say I don't think I'll ever be in a position to judge someone for overdoing it." I was trying my best to be friendly, talking to him like he was just someone I'd known for years and not the dreaded head of the templars. After his drunken babbling the night before I wasn't entirely sure what to do, but being hostile certainly didn't seem to be it.

"You're a young woman," he said. "Young people are supposed to go out and overindulge. At my age, though? I'm certainly old enough to know better."

I raised an eyebrow. "Greagoir, I'm nearly thirty years old. For all I know I already am. I am most definitely more than old enough to know better."

He looked at me closely. "You are, aren't you?" he said after a moment. "I forget that sometimes. I still remember when you barely came up to my knee and I'd catch you stealing cookies from the kitchen with Jowan." I actually smiled at that, I could remember it, too. One thing I could say for the Knight-Commander: he had never made us put the cookies back, only shooed us from the kitchens. "Did you know you were the last child I brought in before I became Knight-Commander?"

"No, I didn't," I said. From what little I remembered the templars who brought me to the tower hadn't removed their helmets, and were fairly silent the whole time. I had no idea he was one of them.

He nodded. "I never mentioned it before since, well, I thought it would have been better for you if you forgot that day. Easier."

"Yeah," I said, pushing my hair behind an ear. "That didn't really work. I don't think about… before much, but apparently if I'm injured enough to get delirious I bring it up. I confused my lieutenant for my father and _cried_. How pathetic is that?"

"I had to restrain one of my men from punching your father," he said quietly. "And I was tempted to just let him, or do it myself. I know you didn't enjoy life in the tower but… from what I saw of your family, you were probably much better off than you would have been otherwise." Greagoir made a face. "I've been a templar for more than forty years. I've never seen a grown man kick a four year old child like that before or since." He sighed then. "From what I saw of you that wasn't the first kick you'd received, either. That's why I made sure we were quiet and left our helmets on. I worried if you recognized us you would be reminded of that day every time you saw us in the tower for the rest of your life. In retrospect it wasn't the best plan, but it was the best I could come up with so quickly."

I stared at him, having no idea what to say. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" I finally asked. My voice came out as a whisper.

"What difference would it have made?"

I didn't really have an answer to that. "I don't know," I said. "I would have liked to know, though." I shook my head. "I can't believe you remember that. It's been more than twenty years."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, for more than twenty years I thought you despised me," I said. "It doesn't quite match up."

He looked sad. "No, I never despised you. I was _disappointed_ in you for many years, though. That I won't lie about. You froze one of our _horses_ solid when we brought you in. I've never seen a child manage anything like that, especially not one as young as you were. I thought you'd be First Enchanter some day; that the kicking, screaming, biting little girl I carried in to the Circle would end up a mage of legend. Instead you spent all your time trying to see how many rules you and Jowan could break in a single day. Watching someone waste that much potential was frustrating, to say the very least. That you _knew_ how much you were capable of, and had the ego to match, didn't help, either." He shrugged. "To be completely honest, though, the older you got, the more you _worried_ me. I was scared of you sometimes, and scared _for_ you. Pestering the guards at the door to let you out at least once a week, getting in screaming matches with anyone who would defend the Chantry near you, associating with people like Brennan and the other Libretarians. I expected some day one of us would be called on to kill you after you ended up an abomination or maleficar."

"Wanting freedom doesn't mean someone will become an abomination," I said. "It just means they want freedom."

"But it isn't _safe_," he said. "Even if _you_ can be trusted not to cross any line how can you say the same of others? I admit, you've handled yourself well since you left the tower, but most mages don't have the willpower you do. I think you're far too cavalier about the dangers for yourself _and_ the other mages in your order. And moreover, how can you keep yourself safe from a world that hates mages? The tower exists to protect mages as much as it protects the world from them."

"But it doesn't," I said. "Not anymore. Look around, every month it seems like there's another riot as entire towns try and prevent children from being taken away. This entire city _knew_ the Revered Mother was harboring apostates and supported her in it for months before anyone found out. _I_ didn't even know. People were always scared of me when I first left the tower, but now no one even seems to notice I'm a mage. If they do they're not scared, either, they're usually just curious. The _only_ threats any of the mages in the Wardens have received since I became commander have been _from_ _the Chantry!_" I sighed. "That's Isolde's one redeeming quality, actually." I said. "She loves her son. She would have done_ anything_ to keep him with her."

"You say that after your own parents beat you because you turned out to be a mage," Greagoir said, shaking his head.

"Things have changed," I said. "Maybe if people stop hearing about how evil and dangerous mages are that won't happen to other children. If we stop calling it a curse and just act like it's another variation of normal, like being tall or having freckles, things can change more. It only took hearing about one mage doing good things to change so much. Imagine how much everyone in that tower could do with their lives if they just had a chance!"

"You don't see what I do," he said. "We still find maleficar hiding in the woods, working on the most horrifying spells you can imagine. We still have apostates turn on us with blood magic. That hasn't changed." He sighed. "And believe me, what I saw happen to you still happens today. There are still parents who see their child cast a spell, bundle them up, and dump them at the Chantry without so much as a blink or a goodbye. I still have men bringing in children from two days away who are covered in week-old bruises from beatings that began moments after they cast their first spell. Some people may not care that their child is a mage, but that attitude is far from universal."

"There will always be bad mages, just like there are plenty of bad people who aren't mages. That doesn't mean we're _all_ bad. Maybe some mages go bad because they've been told they're evil all their lives, or because they're kept apart from normal society. Someone with a job they go to every day, and a family waiting in a comfortable home, and a happy life, isn't going to start controlling minds or draining people's blood."

He sighed. "You honestly think this will work? This plan of the king's?"

"I do," I said. "Most is my idea, anyways." He looked shocked. "Oh, I didn't give _him_ the idea, if I did Alistair would have run screaming. Whenever I tell anyone I have an idea they assume it'll end with everyone riddled with holes and bleeding into the dirt. That almost never happens, though!" You know, saying it out loud, maybe the fact that I had to qualify it as almost explained why people got nervous. I should work on that. "The Chancellor and I were discussing the Circle. The Grand Cleric refused when Alistair asked for mages for the army. They were both _furious_. The Chancellor asked what I would do differently and I told him. He thought I had good ideas. In actuality it's the Tevinter Imperium that has good ideas." He gasped. "Oh, not _everything_ from there. But the way they educate mages? Sure, why not. They've managed for hundreds of years like this and, from what I know, most of their mages turn out a lot less _crazy_ than ours. Smarter, too. Almost all the new magical research is based there. I haven't seen a new book about magic written outside Tevinter basically ever. If it led to tons of disasters and abominations I'm sure they wouldn't keep doing it."

"That is true," he admitted. "I just fear for the children whose parents want nothing to do with them after they display signs. If they're forced to stay with those families…"

I sighed. I didn't want children to continue to disappear forever, but if what he said was true, that could be even worse for them. I had hoped things were better everywhere, but maybe my influence was just that much stronger in the north and northeast of the country, near our headquarters. Or maybe the the close proximity of the large cities of Denerim, Highever, and Amaranthine City were a modernizing influence. I had little reason to doubt Greagoir, though, I knew that much. We rarely agreed, but if he was anything, it was honest to a fault. "Then perhaps the tower will remain an option for them? Or a new school, one that isn't so… oppressive feeling. That building is no place for children, you know that. And maybe in a generation or two it won't be necessary anymore?" I glanced at my hands on the table, I'd started fiddling with my rings, it was apparently my new nervous habit. I was certainly nervous enough, having a reasonable discussion with the head of all templars in the nation wasn't exactly something I did every day. I suppose the fact that we were having an actual conversation and not making snide comments and thinly veiled threats at each other was an improvement, though. "You know, this is the conversation we _should_ have had last night. Actually talked about the practicalities of everything. Not… blackmail."

"Margaret, I want you to know, I had no idea she planned to do that. I would _never_ have agreed to threatening you like that. Something that underhanded…" He shook his head. "It should be beneath us all."

"I know," I said. "It was pretty obvious you were surprised, and not happy." I sighed. "I actually wanted us to work something out. I _know_ this would be a good thing for the Grey Wardens, and honestly, that's always going to be my first priority. But I think it could be very good for Ferelden, too."

"I would suggest trying again, but after you stormed off the Chancellor had a few… choice words for the Grand Cleric. I don't think she would be eager to meet with either of you today." He made a face. "Not that she didn't deserve them, but she considers herself beyond criticism."

I looked at him, an idea forming. "Forget her, then," I said. "She's so terrified of mages she can't think straight, anyways. We're not going back to the Keep until tomorrow, Alistair and Elissa aren't leaving until then, either. _You_ should have been speaking on behalf of the Chantry the whole time." The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. Greagoir was fanatically devoted to the Chantry, but he was also capable of being realistic, and didn't share the Grand Cleric's blanket hated of mages. "Do you have a few hours? I say we go hunt down the King and Chancellor right now."

* * *

_So I will probably start my Maggie-in-the-Origins-timeline story soon. Basically as soon as I come up with a title. Titles are SO not my strongpoint..._

_And did you know the man who does Anders' voice is actually a singer as well as an actor? Discovering that, I decided Anders should sing more. Or it could be the Dubliners kick I've been on as of late..._

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews. _


	65. The griffon portion of the evening

Since Greagoir couldn't come up with an excuse as to why he shouldn't represent the Chantry in our negotiations, or at least an excuse I couldn't dismantle in seconds, it was decided. I gestured to Anders. "Yes, my wife?" he said after walking over and making a show of draping his arms around my shoulders.

I couldn't help but giggle at that, resting my fingertips against his forearm. "We're going to go talk to the Chancellor. And Alistair, if I can track him down. _You_ get to be Nathaniel."

He stood up straight. "Oh no," Anders said. "I don't want to be Nathaniel. I'd make a _horrible_ Nathaniel."

"What are you two talking about?" Greagoir said, staring at us as if we were both insane.

"Nathaniel's my lieutenant. But he's not here. The only other Senior Warden here is Anders, so he gets to be Nathaniel."

"Nathaniel keeps Maggie from being too… Maggie," Anders said. "Something I am in no way qualified to do. I _like _when she's loud and obnoxious. It's cute. That's half the reason I married her!"

"Deal with it," I said, laughing. "Come on, I'm sure you'll have something to add to the discussion, anyways."

"True…" Anders said.

We walked through the hall towards the stairs. Aidan turned a corner, almost slamming directly into us. He looked up and saw the Knight-Commander and made a squeaking noise. "Aidan?" Greagoir said, clearly shocked. "I… We thought you died in Denerim."

"Yeah," Aidan said, looking down and blushing. "I snuck off after the fight. That's where my family lives, I really missed them. I stayed with my older cousin in the alienage until I sort of outed myself healing someone. She's friends with Maggie, though, so… here I am. I still visit them, though. Going for a week when we're done here."

"Oh," he said, surprised. "Well, I'm glad to see you're alive and well. The Wardens are fortunate to have you." He gave him a pat on the shoulder, much to Aidan's surprise.

"We are," I agreed. Aidan blushed and muttered a thank you before rushing off.

"Can you warn me before I run into any other ghosts?" the Knight Commander said, still sounding a bit shocked. "I'm an old man. There's only so much shock I can take in one day."

"None here right now," I said.

"I take it that means there _are_ others," he said. "Well, it's good to see Aidan is well. He's a good lad, and very talented. When we thought he died in Denerim… it was a great loss to the Circle." There were, best I knew, three mages among us who the Circle thought to be dead. While I'm sure Greagoir realized Jowan was one of them, I'd never say it openly.

"He is _very _talented," I agreed. "He developed an entirely new ward for us, it recognizes Grey Wardens. And, ah, stops anyone who isn't one." By way of an agonizing death, but really, anyone poking around our store of archdemon blood or our vault was definitely up to no good.

"To protect the famed Warden secrets, I take it? How many could one order have?"

"And the less famed but equally impressive Warden purse," Anders laughed. "But mostly the secrets, yes. Our secrets have secrets of their own," he said. "It never ends. I'm sure there are things none of us know, too."

"Probably," I agreed. "I bet there's some file you get if you become First Warden. Read it, lock yourself in somewhere, scream and cry for a few hours, and then never speak of it again."

"You think it's that bad?"

"It's probably even worse," Anders said.

"Who knows what they'll tell us when we're in Jader. I think we get forgotten down here and no one ever wants to tell _me_ anything because of that stupid archdemon. I mean, yeah, I killed it, but it's not like I knew what I was doing up until then!" I made a face. "Maker's breath, I went from the nation's most junior Warden to acting Commander in a day! Bad enough outsiders are intimidated by me, I hate that our brothers and sisters are, too." I was mostly ranting to myself at this point. Anders was used to it, but the Knight-Commander looked at me like I was half-crazed.

"Jader?" Anders looked over at me while we climbed the stairs. Greagoir trailed behind us, largely silent.

"Remember the suggestion I gave to Alain, about having a delegation from every country meet up? He did it."

"Nice," Anders said. "Good choice for the location, too. It'll be easy for everyone to get there and it's not so… _Orlesian_ as Val Royeaux. Who are we sending?"

"Me and Oghren, because they want to hear about the blight, you since you've done more study of darkspawn magic and the Architect than anyone, and three others."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said. "Not that I expected you to leave me behind. I liked Alain, though. It would be nice to see him again. I've never been outside Ferelden, either."

"Me too," I said. "On both counts. I liked all the Orlesian mages, they were fantastic. They were just like us!" I smiled at the memory. "Really, it's remarkable how we all got along. I mean, they even made the same kind of jokes as us!"

Anders nodded. "Well, what was it he said in that letter, after the attack? The bond that knows no country, something like that? Seems true enough. They understand us better than anyone outside the order ever could." I made a sound of agreement. "We should bring Tobias," he said.

"I said the same thing to Nathaniel. He'll love it. Nathaniel suggested Dermott and Arthur, too."

"Maybe," he said. "Arthur does love travel. I would say Rose and Roland, though. Otherwise you'll be the only woman in the group. You know how they are in other countries, I doubt there will be many women representing the other branches, and you do have issues the rest of us don't have to worry about." I made a face. He was right, though. Men didn't have to fear being dragged away to be made into a broodmother.

"Good point," I said. "Rose _hates_ Orlais, though."

"Moira and Ronan?" he suggested. "I'd say Runi since she's got seniority but I think it would be impossible to get her on a boat." Anders paused. "We _are_ taking a boat, right? We're not mountain-climbing, are we?"

"Boat," I concurred. "But… _Moira_ and Ronan? Why those two?"

"They get along," he said. "I think Ronan has a crush on her. He told me she's very _exotic_." I giggled at that, letting it slowly build into roaring laughter. Our little templar with a crush on a blood mage. Oh, didn't that just figure. _Exotic, _indeed.

"Moira…" the Knight-Commander spoke up. "Is this another ghost?"

"Yeah," I said. "She ran off to live among the Chasind after the archdemon was dead. Went a bit native while she was there, and came up to join us as soon as she heard we were actively taking recruits. I didn't even recognize her, she still does the face paint and everything." I paused. "Actually, you may know Ronan as well. He used to be one of _yours_."

"That I knew about already," he said. "I think he's more suited to your work than mine. Particularly if he's managed to develop feelings for a face-painting Chasind apostate. I can't say that's the behavior of a dutiful templar."

"So does he," Anders said, laughing. "I got to give him advice about talking to girls!"

Greagoir shook his head at that. "Lovely. Don't you all have more urgent world-saving things to do?"

"Not _every_ day," Anders said cheerfully.

The Chancellor was sitting at the desk in his room, rubbing his eyes and examining a stack of paperwork. Leaving Anders and Greagoir with him I went off in search of Alistair. Anders gave me a look of panic but stayed when I glared at him.

"Got some time?" I said, seeing the king and queen playing cards.

"What's going on?" Alistair asked. I pulled a chair up and quickly summarized my conversation with Greagoir.

"Wait, so… the Knight-Commander… the same one that _hates_ you doesn't actually hate you? He's _disappointed _in you?"

"Apparently?" I said, shrugging.

"He _does_ know you're Commander of the Grey, right? And about the blight?"

"Now I think it's more out of habit," I said. "And a general terror that my opinions and methods will, you know, unleash an army of abominations on the land." I sighed. "But, we actually had an… interesting talk. He brought up some things I didn't know about."

"I think any chance for cooperation would certainly be a good thing," Elissa said. "His voice would carry a lot of weight among the templars. If he was on our side…" Alistair nodded in agreement and raised his hand. A servant darted over and I fought the urge to giggle, watching him order people around with a flick of the wrist. Bowing, the servant left. Elissa looked up at me. "Come take a walk with me while we're waiting, Maggie," she said.

I shrugged and followed her from the room. She led me to a small balcony, overlooking the water. "Alistair has… shared some information with me," she said.

"Oh?" I said, neutrally. I'd told Alistair he should, the King was traditionally privy to secrets of the Grey Wardens. If anything happened to him it would make sense the Queen should be aware as well.

"You… drink darkspawn blood." Apparently Alistair had told her more than I thought he would. I was hoping for a general 'the process to make people Wardens has a high failure rate, wardens are the only ones who can kill an archdemon,' something like that. Not… the blood. That was probably our most disturbing secret. I'm sure, should they discover it, the Chantry would be more than happy to come after us all as users of blood magic. Particularly me, being the thorn in their side that I was. I must have taken too long to answer. "Alistair told me," she said.

"Just once," I admitted. "It isn't as though we serve it at dinner." I sighed. "Were there another way I'd find it, but there isn't. That ties us to them, and without that bond we can't fight them."

"How is that different from the templars and their lyrium?" she asked.

Hm. A good question, I suppose. "Well, for one thing, darkspawn blood isn't a _drug._ We don't have to keep taking more of it, and we don't get sick for want of it. It is possible to be a templar without lyrium. Alistair can do anything they can and he's never touched the stuff. Without our connection the darkspawn a Grey Warden is just another warrior."

"But… so many die," she said. "And he told me how it _changes_ you. He told me he only has a little over twenty years to live!" Her voice cracked when she said that. I could only nod in response at first.

"Yes," I finally said. "But, like I said, without it, we're just warriors. And we _can't_ be just warriors. We're different, and necessary."

"But _why_?" she demanded. "What does it do for you that's so important? What can be worth this? Is it some kind of… blood magic?" She looked at me. "He told me about that, as well. Don't think I don't know!"

"Well," I said, ignoring her second comment, "on a day-to-day basis, the most important thing is our immunity to their corruption. I could bathe in darkspawn blood every day and never get the plague. I would be dead dozens of times over otherwise. We all would, Alistair included. We also have the ability to sense them, sometimes from a great distance and after a few years, with remarkable accuracy. They cannot hide from us since they're a _part_ of us." I looked out over the water. "But that's just side effects. The primary reason is that because of it we can kill an archdemon. No one else can."

"Anyone can kill darkspawn," she said. "I've done it myself. My brother has. Many of our knights have. Why is killing an archdemon so special?"

"A darkspawn has no soul," I said. "An archdemon does. Only someone tainted by their essence is physically capable of striking a killing blow."

"And?"

"And… when they do, the blight ends." I glanced over at her. "You don't need to know more. Just that only _we _can do it, and only because of our connection to the darkspawn. The next blight… by then all of us should be little more than a memory and a note in a history book."

"So many secrets," she said, sounding annoyed. "I could order you…"

"And I could remind you Grey Wardens bow to no king or queen." I turned, leaning against the railing and looking straight at her. "Don't misunderstand me. I'm loyal to Ferelden. But only so long as it doesn't conflict with my duty to the Grey Wardens. Some outside the order are privy to our secrets because it makes _our_ lives easier. You, the First Enchanter, the Empress of Orlais, the Queen of Antiva, the Divine…" I shrugged. The list went on, but I'm sure she got my point. "And they don't know what I do. _Alistair _doesn't know what I do. We share this as a _courtesy_, because if people understand why we're needed they're more likely to stand aside so we can do our jobs and not fight when we demand conscripts. Not because it is their _right_ to know."

"Yes, but you're the Grey Wardens of _Ferelden_. Doesn't that mean you serve Ferelden?"

"No," I said. "It means we're Grey Wardens, and we happen to live in Ferelden. Maker forbid, should an archdemon surface in Rivain, we would all be on a boat that day. We serve the world and go where we're needed. This is just the part we've been given to protect."

"I don't like this," she said finally. "It seems no different than the templars. An armed force, within our borders, who serve their own agenda. As queen it should be my right to know your secrets."

"No, it's not," I said. "And our _agenda_ is protecting the world from darkspawn, wherever they may surface. Nothing more or less than that. To do this we need complete autonomy, we need the ability to recruit wherever and whenever we want, and we need to act without second guessing ourselves for fear of some… political repercussion." I looked back over the water, watching the boats moving in and out of port. "This is how it's always been. If Ferelden wants the protection of the Grey Wardens this is how it has to be. That's why the treaties exist."

She sighed then. "I suppose there's nothing I can say to convince you."

"Not unless you want to drink a chalice of darkspawn blood first," I replied. "And once you do… you won't want to change my mind again, I assure you of that." Even then, she wouldn't be given all the information I had. Although Nathaniel, Anders, Sigrun, and Oghren each knew all I did, none of the other Wardens did. None of them knew where the old gods were, or that the Architect had that information before he died. None of them knew he was given it by a traitorous bastard from our own brotherhood. None of them knew his followers might have that information even now. Odds are, none of them ever would know, either. Not unless the five of us died. The order of succession was very clear, we sat down and wrote it out one afternoon, each signing the papers. If I died before the calling without a successor named Nathaniel would become Commander. Sigrun after him, and Anders after her, with poor drunk Oghren last. Although he was a fantastic leader when sober, that was the problem. It was only when sober, and those days were rare indeed. Honestly, if his drinking was anything close to approaching under control I would have made him my lieutenant in a heartbeat, the day he underwent the Joining. I trusted him that much. But I also knew him well enough that he wouldn't stay sober.

Of course, this was all in the event of an absolute disaster, one on the level of the Battle of Ostagar, happening again. While it was very likely I could die before naming someone to succeed me, the odds of Nathaniel doing the same were slim. Frankly, it was far more likely if something that bad was to happen all of us would die together, or at least in groups, than each of us meeting a separate, and untimely, end on our own.

"No… no, I don't think Alistair would stand for that," she said, finally cracking a small smile.

"Good," I replied.

"Alistair told me I was being foolish," she said. "That I didn't understand, _couldn't_ understand, and if there was one thing he would never back down on, it was supporting our treaties with the Wardens." I nodded, not surprised. "I guess I just hoped… I could convince you."

"Sorry," I said. "I'll defend the Wardens to my death, if it ever comes to that. We all will."

"That's what Alistair told me you would say," she said. I chuckled at that. He knew me well. "But, we should get back. Let's hope this ends better than the last negotiation did."

"It should," I said. "Unless someone else has a mind to use my marriage as blackmail fodder. In which case, well, don't let anyone sit within firing range of Anders. His temper is much worse than mine."

"Not on our side," she laughed. "That isn't even on the _long_ list of ideas. I'm so very happy for you. I wish we could have been there, from what I heard it sounded lovely." She was smiling now as we walked back. Apparently we were going to pretend the previous conversation never happened.

"It was," I said.

We sat down around the table where they had been playing cards. "Oooh, food!" I exclaimed, grabbing a chunk of bread from the tray. Anders was already happily devouring an apple and Alistair was gorging himself on a disturbingly large piece of cheese. The Knight-Commander was watching both of them in horror while Eamon shuffled papers indifferently.

"Do all of you…"

"Eat like pigs?" Elissa supplied. "Yes, that seems to be the case. They won't explain it, though, so don't bother asking. You'll just get the typical line about Warden secrets."

"Oink, oink," I said, grabbing a handful of grapes from the impressive spread of snacks. Anders giggled and opened his mouth, I tossed one in.

"Almost nauseating, isn't it," Alistair said, watching us. "Like two little mage puppies." At that both of our _actual_ puppies, who could hardly be called that anymore, yipped. "Oh, not _you_," Alistair said to the dogs.

"Be nice," Anders said, elbowing him. They were sitting next to each other. It seemed they had actually managed to become friends in their own right recently, not just friendly because they knew so many people in common. I was happy for it.

"Has anyone ever said you two share a striking resemblance," the Knight-Commander mused, watching them. "If not brothers than certainly enough to be cousins… it's very strange."

Anders shrugged. "So they tell me. I'd like to think I'm royalty. That would be great fun. For once I could outrank Maggie!" He laughed at the idea. "Not that I'd ever know. Never met my father, and my mother's been dead for nearly a decade."

"Never met my father, either," Alistair quipped. "From what they tell me he was a pretty big deal, though. Some war or something…" Both men laughed at that. Elissa met my glance and rolled her eyes.

"We _do_ have a reason for this meeting," Eamon reminded everyone. "Or are we just discussing everyone's parentage?"

"Well, I'm from West Hill," I said. "Nothing more impressive than the spawn of a couple farmers. Not terribly nice people, as I've learned today."

"Highever!" Elissa cheered, throwing her hands in the air.

To my amazement, Greagoir shrugged and said "Amaranthine merchants." A moment later he corrected himself, though. "No, I suppose now its Griffon Coast. Who picked that name?" He looked at me accusingly.

"Alistair," I said, smiling.

"Griffons are _awesome_," Alistair said simply.

I nodded in agreement. "Right," Eamon said. "Since we've now moved onto the griffon portion of the evening, I think we should skip right ahead to business."

I made a face at him but nodded in agreement. "Well," I said. "After discussing it with Greagoir, I've learned that closing the Circle completely might not be in the best interests of all children."

The Knight-Commander nodded and told them what he'd told me, about parents who still beat their children and the ones who simply dropped them at the Chantry never to be seen again.

"How awful," Elissa said. "But, in light of this… I have to agree. Leaving children in a situation like that would be irresponsible of us all."

"So, we have two options," Alistair said. "The tower, or something similar, for children like that. And those who want to keep their children can have them educated in the Chantry until they're old enough to be sent off to more specialized schools."

"I want it run differently," Elissa said. "Even those who leave their families need to be able to play outside, perhaps get trips into town on occasion. I want them to have a chance to be _children_. We should treat it like any other boarding school, not a prison."

Greagoir actually nodded at that. "I don't see how, with proper supervision, allowing them to play outside or even take day trips could be dangerous." He stared forward, not looking at anyone in specific. "I've been thinking and… much of the current system is outdated. It is based upon punishing people for being born mages. I don't share your optimism, but I can agree _that_ is unnecessary. There is no harm in letting a child, even a mage child, play outside." He glanced at me. "Perhaps it is true that telling people they are evil from childhood on is part of what causes so many of the problems mages have. It certainly can't help things."

I smiled at him, glad he actually listened to me, and thought about what I said.

"I don't like the idea of so many mages free in Ferelden, though," he said. "Army, guard forces, healers… too many without supervision only increases the chances of problems."

"That I will _not_ budge on," Alistair said. "I'm king of Ferelden, if I want mages for the army it's my right to ask them to join. The Chantry does not run this nation."

"You know when someone's possessed just by sight, right?" Anders said suddenly, looking at Greagoir.

"Well, yes," he said. "All templars can tell. The signs are very subtle, but we're trained in spotting them." Alistair nodded in agreement.

"Well, why not let people who are training to be templars, people like Alistair or our Ronan, who have _no interest_ in actually being a templar, also join the army?" Greagoir seemed to consider this. "It would save them from a miserable life, save you from a staff full of people who aren't good at their jobs and would rather do anything else, and they'll certainly notice if one of their coworkers becomes possessed."

"I'll admit," I added, "we've utilized Ronan's templar skills in the past, and not just against emissaries. When we had to enter the fade at Soldier's Peak I made sure he was there, and made him swear not to let any of us leave that room if we came back as something other than ourselves." I shrugged. "He wasn't pleased to do it, I'll admit, but he did as our friend and brother. I would never want to live with my every move watched, not like I did in the tower. But that? He's not a templar, he's a warden who has the skills of a templar. I have no problem with that. I think any mage would tolerate working alongside former templars or templars-in-training if it means a life of freedom."

"And if, over time, it proves unnecessary, all the better," Anders added.

"See, that is an _excellent_ compromise," Elissa said brightly, reaching out to squeeze my hand in one of hers and Greagoir's in the other. I was tempted to roll my eyes. That must be something nobles were taught.

"If by _compromise_ you mean that you'll do what you want and I can agree or not, absolutely," Greagoir said drily. "But… it is better than nothing."

We argued when we got to discussing the lyrium issue. "I simply don't believe it's _possible_ to do what we need to without it," Greagoir said.

"Well then, how about a demonstration," Alistair said. He turned to me and gestured towards the middle of the room. I nodded and walked over.

"Just let me cast something and you can dispel it," I said. "Don't smite me, I have far too much to do tomorrow."

"Got it," he said, laughing. "I _am_ a bit rusty so go with a spell that takes a while to really get dangerous." I nodded and raised my hands, proceeding through the gestures that would call a blizzard into the room. While I could usually aim it further away, since it would be dispelled I just centered the spell on myself. I could see Greagoir tense, watching me. Snow and ice swirled around my hands first, and then began to swirl through the room. Alistair raised his hand, a blue light filled the room, and the cold was gone. "And there," he said. "One blizzard neutralized." He looked over at me. "Always with the cold spells. Could never be a nice earthquake. Now it's freezing in here." I made a face at him.

Greagoir, satisfied it was possible, fell into a discussion with Anders about the feasibility of having templars quit lyrium. "What are your plans?" Alistair asked me while they spoke.

"Home tomorrow," I said. "Start checking and crosschecking our maps and sighting reports with the new attack information. After that, go out and hunt the bastards down once and for all, hopefully." I shrugged. "Nathaniel and Anders know more about the maps than I do, they think we may be able to pinpoint their nest now once we have all the information together."

"Good," Alistair said. I nodded. He leaned closer to me. "So, do you think we'll all end up excommunicated for this?"

"Probably," I said. He sighed and nodded in agreement.

"I feel like we're doing the right thing," Alistair said. "But… is that how they felt in Tevinter, too? Are we no different from them?"

"No idea," I admitted. "I don't think we'll ever know. History will be the one to judge us."

"Maybe I should have Brother Genitivi start writing now," he laughed. "After the job he did on you I think there may be some hope for us all!"

I looked over at him. "Job on me? I didn't know his book about the blight was done."

"Very recently," Alistair said. "I got it the day before we left, so yours is probably waiting at home. I'm sure he sent you a copy, you know he loves you. Ever since you started rattling off all the books of his you'd read when we met." He laughed. "He called you Margaret the Merciful, you know. I'm Alistair the Just. I mean, everything he wrote was _true_, technically. But he did it in a way that the two of us come out sounding like we're both so holy we glow."

"Hey, good," I said. "After the last book about the blight I read that'll be a pleasant change."

"Was that the one that said we were…" I nodded and he made a face. "Yeah. Ew. No offense or anything but, just… _weird._"

"Exactly," I agreed, laughing.

Eventually we looked over the notes and realized that we were, basically, done. Everything had been decided on. Compromises that would at least allow all of us to sleep at night were reached. Greagoir asked if we could recommend an inn and, after some convincing, agreed to just stay at the estate again. It was too late to find an _open_ inn, anyways.

Anders and I shuffled to our room and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. I wanted to talk to him about everything we decided on, but sleep claimed both of us well before that could happen.

* * *

_Thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing! And, as I've been hinting and promising, I finally started Maggie's blight-timeline story. It's at fanfiction .net/s/6232503/1/ and called _Blue Skies, Fresh Air, Freedom, and Darkspawn. _The first two chapters are up now, I may post the third later on tonight. I'm having so much fun writing her back when she was REALLY crazy, before she even knew how normal people acted._

_Also, as an experiment I'm now allowing anonymous reviews. So, if that's been putting you off from reviewing, there you go. :)  
_


	66. I know the perfect place for it

I was amazed no disaster managed to develop between when we slept and woke. Even as we mounted our horses I half-expected someone to come barreling out of the city, screaming for help.

"Let's get out of here before something else happens," Anders said. I grinned and nodded.

Once home our first priority was the darkspawn. We gathered in the office first thing, eating as we worked. I sat while Nathaniel and Anders poured over maps, tracing and retracing lines and debating things like terrain and ground cover. "No," Nathaniel was saying, "they _can't_ be there, it's all swampland. There aren't any caves, and there isn't any decent place to tunnel. We _know_ they're not going to just camp on the surface."

"Look, it's the clearest answer," Anders replied. "Every attack is within a couple miles of there. It's right in the middle of everything. Where else would they be? Maybe they found a cave you just don't know about?"

"I know this land like I know my own skin," Nathaniel said. "I grew up here. I knew these roads better than you when I was _ten_."

"And you were gone for a decade!" Anders said. "You haven't lived here as an _adult _for any longer than me! I say it's worth checking. What's the harm in looking?"

"Sparklefingers has a point," Oghren said. "Send some scouts, someone good. If they get there and start seeing red they turn back right away and we go out in force. If not, well, we wasted a couple days of their time."

"I'm inclined to agree," I said. "I'd rather look and have it be nothing than ignore it and be wrong."

"Fine," Nathaniel said. "I don't think they'll find anything, though." He looked at the maps. "Maybe here…"

He and Anders had been arguing about the area at the center of a rough circle of attacks. Nathaniel was now pointing to a spot just outside that circle, to the north. "Why there?"

"I remember… there's a network of caves and tunnels," he said. "Thomas and I once got lost in them when we were young. We were gone until the middle of the night just trying to find our way out. When we got back my father was _so_ angry. He…." Nathaniel trailed off, making a face. "Well, I think that's a good location to check."

"Sounds like it," I said.

"Why are the attacks clustered around another location, though," Sigrun said. "I know they're smarter than _average_ darkspawn, but only the Architect was actually what someone could call _smart_. The rest all act like a guy who's taken a hammer to the head too many times. Have they actually become smart enough for _intentional_ misdirection?" She made a face. "I don't like this."

"Me neither," I agreed. "But that tunnel complex does sound like a darkspawn dream home." I sighed. "Two teams?"

"Probably," Nathaniel said. "Tobias and Rose?"

"Perfect." He left with Sigrun, returning a moment later with Tobias. She returned with Rose a few seconds after him. I explained the mission to both of them. "Work on building your teams together," I said. "Focus on scouting and stealth." They both nodded. "And leave the dogs at the Keep. I just want you to get close enough to sense them, and then come home. We'll go in with a full force if you do. I don't want barking to give you away." They nodded.

Rose turned and walked out after thanking me. Tobias hung back. "Hey boss?"

"Anything wrong?" I asked him.

"No," he said. "Just… you want _me_ to lead people? _Me?_"

"Why not?" I said. "You're one of our best scouts and I trust your judgment." I paused, remembering who it was that wanted to move his new girlfriend into the Keep. "Well, usually," I added, grinning.

"Look, I know the girl was a bad idea. Don't bring up the girl again. I'm nervous since she _knows_ where I live now. She's a bit nuts." I rolled my eyes.

"You'll be fine," Nathaniel said. "Go pick your team, you don't want to set out after dark."

He nodded, thanking us and running down the hall.

I asked Rose about the trip to Orlais before they left, wanting to give her the right to refuse first. She made a face. "It's not _Val Royeaux_ or anything but… Orlais?"

"Just offering," I said. "Don't feel like you have to."

"No… I'd rather not," she admitted. "I mean, I can be polite to them if they come here, and if I ever _have_ to go there for work. But I'm not your best pick. My family… they suffered a lot in the last years of the occupation. I can't stop thinking of my mother's stories when I hear the accent." I nodded. I couldn't blame her, half of Ferelden had the same problem. That she was able to put it aside for work was enough for me. Hopefully she wouldn't have a problem if Leliana came to visit, I'd been hoping Rose would take her up on bard training. Tobias, as I expected, was beside himself with excitement. I watched them setting out, curious about their teams. They both did a good job selecting people, though, and I only wished them luck and reminded them the goal was stealth.

After asking around someone told me to check the battlements for Moira, she'd been sitting up there painting lately, apparently.

I could hear someone talking on the battlements as I climbed the ladder. "…_no, it's like… freedom. No one there cared who I was or what I did. They accepted me for me, and were just happy I had skills that were useful to the tribe. That's why I still wear the face paint. It was the first place I felt at home, ever since I was taken from my parents. I don't want to forget what they did for me."_

_"That's how the templars say they are. They talk about a brotherhood, about belonging and all standing together as holy knights for Andraste. That we'll all be as close as a family. It's a total lie, though. I barely even had friends, much less anyone I'd call a brother. Roland and Arthur are more my brothers than any of the templars ever were. I don't know, I think this is the first place I've ever really felt at home. Since I was a boy, at least, when my father died in the Blight."_

_"Me too"_

"Hello?" I called, not wanting to startle them.

"Up here," came a response. I opened the hatch and climbed out. Moira and Ronan were sitting together, legs dangling over the edge of the wall. I noticed a small easel sitting not far away, a half completed landscape on it. "Hey, welcome home," Ronan said. Both of them spun around and shifted over so they weren't so close to the edge. "Everything go all right in the city?"

I made a face. "It was… bad. Under control now, though. Until we all end up excommunicated, but that's a long story."

"You can't say something like _that_ and not explain," Moira said, eyes wide.

"In a second," I promised. "I had a question. For both of you, actually. Makes my life easier that I can ask you both at once." I looked at them and grinned. "What are your feelings on going to Orlais?"

"Huh?" Ronan said. "You mean, like, forever?"

"What? No!" I said. "No, they're having a council of Grey Wardens, from all over Thedas. We get to send six people. I'm going, so are Anders, Oghren, and Tobias. I wanted to know if you two wanted to come with us. It's in Jader, we'd be leaving in a month or so."

"Oh _wow_," Ronan said. "That sounds… really fun! We'd get to meet people from everywhere?"

"Yep," I said. "Although I don't know how many will speak the common tongue," I warned. Ferelden was the only country where it was used as the primary language, after all, although bits of it were spoken everywhere. The old Ferelden language had died out centuries ago, before Andraste's birth. Names were really all that remained of it.

"I know Tevinter," Moira said. I nodded, not surprised. She grew up in the same place as me, after all. It was part of why I liked Anders' idea of bringing her.

"So do I," Ronan added. That _did_ surprise me. "They teach templars now," he said, obviously seeing the confusion on my face. "So they can understand if mages speak in it around them." Once he explained it I was shocked it took the Chantry that long to teach them at all.

"Well, hopefully every group will send at least one mage. That'll mean we can all communicate in Tevinter and translate for everyone else if we have to. And, for us, Tobias and Oghren would be the only ones who need translation." They both seemed really excited about the idea. "So, you both want to come with us?"

"Absolutely," Ronan said. Moira nodded.

"Now will you tell us what happened?" she said. I told them about the _first_ meeting with the Grand Cleric.

"Wait!" she said, interrupting me. "She threatened _what_? You got married?"

"Oh…" I said. "Yeah, we did. It was kind of… spur of the moment." I shrugged, not wanting everyone to make a big deal about this. "We knew Mother Moira would perform the ceremony, and figured best get it done before anything happened. Nathaniel and Sigrun made us dress up."

"I'm happy for you," Ronan said. "You know Anders had been wanting to ask you for ages before he got up the nerve." I giggled at that. Anders didn't get up the nerve. Alistair threatened him into it.

Moira squealed and gave me a hug. "Congratulations!" she said. "I'm so happy for you!"

I blushed. "Well… it doesn't really change anything. I just have a new ring."

"Yes it does!" she said. "_Normal_ people get married, but no one thinks mages do. It'll help show we're all just like everyone else." I hadn't thought of it like that. I suppose she had a point. I continued my story. Glossing over finding the Knight-Commander drunk, I went directly to the second meeting. They were both very quiet when I was done.

"So… they won't be allowed to make anyone a lyrium addict?" Ronan finally said, breaking the silence.

"Not anymore," I said. "And all the templars now are going to be given help quitting."

He nodded. "Good. Quitting that was… it was bloody _awful_. I've never felt so sick in my life. A few times I thought I'd die. I mean really die, no exaggeration. Anders had to knock me out. And even now, if I see one of you grab a potion in a fight, part of my brain wants to take it. I _never_ will, but it's like, part of me wants it still." Moira put her hand over his and he smiled at her. Huh, I guess Anders was right about the two of them. How… odd. "And it just makes me so _mad_ that they did that to me for _no good reason_, just to keep me under their thumb, and lied about it the whole time! They smiled and said it would make us better templars, but it was just to make us addicts so we couldn't run away!" He sighed. "Eh, I suppose I don't have a lot of cause to complain. I mean, compared to what they do to people like you two…"

"We _all_ have reason to complain," Moira said. "And I think it all sounds wonderful. I hope we see mages in every guard force and every town in Ferelden. The more people see mages and live among them, the more they see we're no different. Then if the Divine tries to say all mages are evil those people can say 'why, I've worked with so-and-so for years in the guards. She's no more evil than anyone. That's nonsense!'" I nodded. The same idea had occurred to me. I hoped that so many mages living like everyone else without a problem would eventually lead to the tower closing completely when people realized it was no longer needed. "Just look at how many people started questioning the Chantry because of _you_," she went on. "No matter what they say about us, all everyone in Ferelden has to think is 'well, the Hero of Ferelden is a mage' and they start to wonder how the two things can both be true, and they see they _can't_. During the blight you changed _everything_."

"It wasn't just me," I said. "Two mages fought with me all through the blight, one right from the very beginning, after Ostagar. Mages fought in the Battle of Denerim, you know, you were there too."

She shrugged. "Yeah, but you're the face everyone thinks of when they think of mages during the blight. That's good, though. From what I know of the apostate you worked with… well, she's the kind of mage that seems to exist just to make other people scared of us." I laughed, her description wasn't far off. "And Wynne is so… _Wynne_. No one will change their minds about mages because of a sanctimonious and preachy old lady. No, better it's you. Let them see a normal looking pretty girl with a big smile and a Ferelden accent. Someone like you, people can look and think about how you remind them of their daughters or sisters or some girl they knew years ago."

Ronan nodded. "Yeah. You're probably the most terrifying person I've ever seen in a fight, but you're just about the least scary _looking_ person I've ever met."

I didn't quite agree with that, although maybe it was the case when I was younger. I had a few too many scars these days to really look like a normal woman. I thanked him anyways, since he did mean it as a compliment, and left the two so they could get back to their discussion.

"So _that's_ where you were!" Anders said as I hopped down the last few rungs of the ladder. "Hiding on the roof?"

"Hunting down Ronan and Moira," I said. "You were right about them, I think. They're very… cute."

"And strange," he added.

"Well, yes. But I think they bonded over a mutual hatred of the Chantry. Ronan's still so angry over finding out the lyrium was just to keep him on a leash. And Moira, well…"

"Has more reasons to hate them than we can list in a day," he said. "Like any of us." We started walking down the stairs.

"She gives us her congratulations," I said. "And said something about how it's one more bit of evidence to use to show mages are normal."

"Always politics," Anders said. "Maybe I just want to live my life? Maybe I just wanted to get married because I love you, not because I want to make some statement or be used an example." He made a face and I squeezed his hand. "I can see why you hate that Hero of Ferelden business," Anders added after a moment. "It's like if you become a symbol you're not allowed to just be a person anymore."

"I mostly ignore it," I said. "Unless I can use it to my advantage. Like, you know, so we could get married and stay that way."

"True enough," Anders said. "And rather devious on your part, sending letters to the newspapers. I love when you're manipulative. You know, as long as you're not doing that to me." I laughed. "You think Denerim has heard the news yet?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. If not, they will soon."

It turned out they knew already, since the letters began to pour in before we even arrived home. And presents. I shoved them into a corner, pretending they weren't there, until finally Anders pulled me into the sitting room a couple days later. "We need to open these," he said. "Now. I'm sick of climbing over boxes. And Nathaniel told me everyone will think we're rude if we take too long to thank people." They turned out to be incredibly strange, useless, inappropriate presents. "Did… someone send us a pan?" Anders said, holding it up curiously. "I don't think this is safe to use on a campfire."

"Me neither," I agreed. "It's got that wood handle." I pointed to a box shoved in the corner of our sitting room. "There's a whole set of them, too. All different shapes and sizes."

"What… are we going to do with this?"

I shrugged. "Divide them between Felsi and Nora? They cook. Like, on real ovens. Oh, and Nora and Jowan wanted us to have dinner with them tomorrow." I giggled. It felt so strangely… normal.

He nodded. "Sounds like a good plan." Anders pried open another box. "More pans," he announced. "I think we can use these on a campfire, though. Should I put them with the travel supplies?"

"Sure, just write down who sent it. I have a list over on the table. We'll have to thank them."

"These are from Shianni. She included a note. _Pots and pans are a traditional wedding gift, but something tells me you only need the kind that can be used when you're on the road hunting monsters. Wish I could have been there for the wedding! Enjoy!_"

"I like her," I said. "She's smart."

Several boxes contained blankets and sheets. Most were far too fancy for us to actually _use_ for anything. "These have _lace_ on them!" I said, looking at the sheet with confusion. "I don't even like lace on my clothes. Why would I want it on the bed?"

"Because it's romantic?" Anders said, laughing. "And we're _so_ good at that."

"You know we'd just end up ripping them," I said. "If it comes down to fooling around with my husband or protecting the delicate lace sheets, well, goodbye sheets." Anders leered at me, tossing the sheets aside. "Ah," I said, opening the next box. "Now _here_ is something from someone who actually knows us."

Anders looked over, eyes wide. "Who sent _that_?"

"Alistair and Elissa," I said. It was a pair of matching staves. One was blue with gold accents, the other gold with blue. They must have bought them in Highever and had them mailed from there, right after leaving Amaranthine.

He took the gold one and aimed an experimental bolt at the fireplace. "Maker's breath," he said. "I think I could bring the Keep down with this!"

"I guess being the king means you can get the best of everything. Even magic staves."

"Maybe he'll do all my shopping for now on!" Anders said, laughing.

I grabbed a smaller yet heavy box and opened it, surprised by the name on the front. "I hate her," I said, looking at the next gift. "I _hate _her and someday, someday soon, I will kill her. With fire."

"What?" Anders grabbed the book from me and made a face. "_Who _gave us this?" he said, sneering. It was a huge Chantry-approved volume cautioning mages about the danger of possession and abomination stemming from romantic involvements.

"Guess," I said, making a face.

"Wynne?"

"Yep."

"I know the perfect place for it," Anders said, walking across the room. A moment later the book was nestled gently among the burning embers of the fireplace. He cast another spell and the flames surged up, leaving little more than ash. "_I'm_ writing the thank-you note for that one," he said. "I have a few things to say to my old mentor."

I nodded and we continued to open presents. Mabari shaped candle holders. A life size mabari statue. "Oh, this is nice," I said. "Teagan and Alfstanna sent us a griffon shaped wall sconce. No, two of them."

He looked at them and smiled. They were covered in gilt and jems. Or, glass that looked like gems, at least. More pots and pans came next. "Where did people get the idea that _either_ of us cooked?" he said. I shrugged. "Andraste's sword!" Anders gasped, opening one box and closing it quickly, laughing. "Oh, doesn't that figure."

"What?"

"Well, it seems Zevran sent us a gift," he said.

"Really? How sweet of him."

Anders, still laughing, slid the box towards me. I opened it and gasped. "What is this?" I picked up a flimsy bit of red and black silk, obviously an undergarment of some kind. "This is more… string than clothing. Are they even human sized?" I couldn't imagine it offering anything that remotely resembled support.

"It's a whole set," he said. "Stockings, garters, and all."

"What are we supposed to do with this?" I said. "I can't wear this under my robes! And what would you do with women's underwear?" Why would Zevran send us such a bizarre gift? Was it some kind of slight towards Anders that he sent something specifically for me? And underwear, of all things!

"I don't think you're supposed to wear anything over it," he said.

"What?"

"Well, not in _public_," he said. "And I don't think _I'm_ supposed to do anything with it. Other than look at it. On you."

"Why would you want to do that?" I said, looking at the box again. "I mean, it's so tiny I might as well just be naked."

He chuckled. "I'm… I'm not going to try and explain that."

"So… it's not a bad gift?"

"It's a… strange gift," he said. "Since he's your former… yeah." He made a face. Anders still looked slightly jealous whenever Zevran's name came up. "Although I suspect he sent something very similar to Alistair and Elissa, or Oghren and Felsi when they married. It seems like something he would do and think nothing of it. So no, not _bad_." He stopped speaking and looked at me, blushing a little. "You know, unless you don't _want_ to wear it. And that's fine! I mean, I'd never tell you what to wear."

I giggled. "Are you… _blushing_? _You_?" I suppose he did like the present.

"No!" Anders said. "It's… warm in here. And we're sitting very close to the fire. Books burn at a very high temperature, you know. That's all."

"Right," I said, rolling my eyes. "Well, wait here. And make sure the door is locked, I _really_ don't want to hear jokes from everyone because of this." We would really never live down the templar armor incident.

I grabbed the box and headed into the bedroom, kicking off my boots and dropping my robes to the floor. After several moments I was able to figure out how the bizarre undergarments worked. Once I had the last stocking clipped into place I shouted to Anders. "All right," I said. He opened the door and stared at me. I crossed my arms, feeling silly. "I look ridiculous," I said. "Please don't laugh."

Anders didn't laugh, though. After a few seconds of staring at me he… growled before lunging forward, sending us both toppling onto the bed. "Good, then?" I asked. He mumbled something, muffled by his mouth against my neck.

A moment later I gasped, feeling his mouth clamp onto my breast through the sheer fabric. I moaned, pressing myself closer to him as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Anders began kissing his way down my ribcage. "Remind me," he said between nips at my skin, "to thank Zevran next time I see him."

"Sure," I gasped as bit down on my inner thigh. Pushing my legs apart, Anders began to kiss me through the fabric. I squirmed and then moaned when I felt his tongue press against me through the silk. He reached up, sparks dropping from his fingertips across my torso.

I moved my hips against him, frustrated by the cloth between us. He stopped just long enough to push the fabric aside. I gasped out his name, twining my fingers in his hair. Anders clamped an arm across my stomach, pressing me down since my hips wanted to push up from the bed. I howled, crying out his name and shaking, and he looked up at me with a grin.

"You're wearing clothes," I managed after a moment.

"So I am," he replied. "Any suggestions?"

"You need to… not be wearing clothes," I said, not feeling particularly eloquent. I tried to pull the underwear off and he grabbed my hand.

"You should leave it on," Anders said. I giggled and nodded. His robes went sailing across the room and he climbed back onto the bed. I ran my fingers over his chest, marveling as I always did that a mage was ever able to become so muscular. He smiled, kissing me, and I pulled the tie out of his hair, letting it fall around his shoulders.

Climbing on top of me Anders reached a hand between us, shifting the cloth aside. After a moment he sighed. "All right, maybe that part has to go," he admitted. "That lace is a bit… scratchy." I heard fabric rip as he yanked them over my hips. Offending lace gone he was on top of me again.

I reached up, brushing my fingers across his cheek. "Love you," I whispered to him.

"Love you, too," Anders replied, smiling. He shifted my leg and slid into me, groaning. I matched his rhythm, trailing an ice covered fingertip from one side of his chest to the other.

Grabbing my leg, he moved it so it was lying across his chest, over his shoulder and pointing in the air. He grabbed the other next and did the same before running his fingertips, sparks flying, across my collarbone. I groaned and arched against him, gasping his name. Trailing his fingertips down my torso, across my chest and stomach, he settled his hand where our bodies met. I could feel tingles of some kind of healing magic as he rubbed, keeping time with his thrusts.

My legs tensed and most of my lower back left the bed, pushing against him. "Harder," I begged. He complied and I felt my body tense up. Whatever spell he was casting intensified and I cried out. Anders roared a moment later, collapsing onto me in a sweaty heap.

"Hi," he said after a moment of catching our breath.

"Hey," I replied. "Not to, um, spoil the moment… but can you… get off my legs?" I was pinned below him, legs folded in half. It wasn't exactly comfortable. It was, to be specific, extraordinarily uncomfortable.

He laughed and quickly rolled over. "Sorry, sorry."

"No damage done," I assured him. "Well, no permanent damage." Anders cast a spell and the ache dissipated. I groaned and stretched. "All better. All _fantastic_."

"Good," he said, rolling over and wrapping an arm around me. I started to doze off.

So, of course, someone started knocking on the door. "Nooooo," I groaned.

"I'll get it," Anders said. He stood up and pulled his robes on, leaving the belt and fur caplet on the floor. "Please tell me you're just letting us know another package arrived," I heard him say.

"Nope," it was Sigrun. "Scouts are back. They've got news. We may have the bastards." I could hear her laugh. "Wait… what happened to your robes? Aren't they usually a lot… more?"

"Very funny," Anders said.

"Oh… were you two…?" She giggled more. "Oops. You should hang a sign out. We've been hunting them for months, what's another few minutes?"

I could hear Anders sigh. "First off, I don't know if I should be insulted you assume this sort of thing takes _a few minutes _or if I should pity you and have a chat with Nathaniel. And second, maybe we don't want to hang a sign and _announce_ every detail of our lives to the entire order!" He paused. "Did you say we found them?"

"They sensed darkspawn," she confirmed. "Didn't get close enough to see what exactly was there, though. Which _is_ what we ordered." I jumped out of bed and grabbed my robes. Looking down I realized I was still wearing the absurd underwear from earlier. Well, some of it. Frantically I started to undress and then redress properly. After a second of thought I pulled the robes off again and grabbed my armor from the stand in the corner.

"How many?" I shouted.

"Less than a dozen," she shouted back. "But all powerful. Tobias said it was mostly emissaries and alphas from what he could sense. A couple ogres." Tobias had been a warden for a couple years now, he wouldn't be able to pick them up like one of us, but at a closer distance he was very accurate.

I went into the sitting room. Anders automatically stepped behind me, fastening the more difficult to reach buckles, before slipping into the bedroom himself. "What do you think?" I asked Sigrun.

"All high-level darkspawn, no grunts," she shrugged. "I think this is the closest we've been. And even if it isn't the Architect's followers that sort of group needs to be wiped out." I nodded in agreement. Anything that powerful could command a war band on its own.

"Where were they?" Anders asked, returning in his armored robes. I did the back buckles for him.

"The caves," Sigrun said. "Where Nathaniel suggested."

"Blast." Anders replied, stomping a foot. "I owe him half a sovereign."

* * *

_A/N: Duncan and the prequel had taken control of my muse. At last Anders managed to wrestle my attention back to him. Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers. Just knowing you're out there is a constant inspiration._


	67. We leave it off the recruitment posters

Everyone was pouring into the main hall. "Yes, I know," Anders said to Nathaniel. "I'll pay you when we get home."

"Just so long as you admit _I _was right," he said, smiling.

I left them laughing together while I made sure we were all ready. I had gotten strangely used to barking orders. "Roland, check your buckles," "Dermott, don't forget your sword," "Moira, your staff is cracked, go get a new one."

"Jowan," I said as he walked in, his cleaned and meticulously pressed robes instantly showing which of us was domesticated. "Turn around, get changed, come back in _armor_."

"You _can't_ be serious," he said. "Come on, Mags. I hate that stuff. They're _heavy_."

"Very serious. Come on, you want to come home to your wife and kid? I promised her I'd keep you alive."

"I'll be fin—"

"Jowan, this isn't a _debate_. I almost never order anyone to do anything. Don't argue on the rare occasions that I do."

Grumbling, he turned and left.

"Expecting the worst?" Oghren said, walking over.

"Don't I always?" I asked.

He laughed. "Well, it's kept us alive. He'll figure that out eventually. They all do."

Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Anders walked over with the maps. We spread them on the floor, the five of us crouching in a circle around them.

"All right," I said. "I want to leave a ring of Wardens scattered all around the cave, in a circle. I want that area completely covered." I gestured on the map around the caves. "Far enough apart that there won't be any blind spots. We don't need these bastards running out the back door while we go in the front. There's only a dozen or so, we don't all need to go in the cave." Nathaniel went into more detail about the size of the cave from what he could remember and we decided on how many we would need inside.

"Any preference?"

"No," I said. "But I think any dwarves would make better use of their skills _in_ the cave than outside."

"Stone sense," Oghren said.

Sigrun nodded in agreement. "We'll make sure no one gets lost inside," she said.

"Foot or horseback?" I asked, looking at Nathaniel. He was the terrain expert.

"Horseback," he said. "Or… actually, let's go with wagons. If we lose the horses it won't be as bad."

"Good call," I said. "Ready?" They all nodded and I stood up, clapping my hands together as I walked to the front door. "Everyone ready?" I shouted. Nods all around. "All right, let's go save the world. _Again_."

A few of the Wardens laughed as we went outside.

Piled into the wagons, the drivers urged the horses faster. "Got your Inspiring Speech ready?" Anders whispered in my ear. We were sitting on the bench of the lead wagon.

"Yep," I said. "It isn't bad. I think I'm getting better at them."

"You are," He agreed. It would be at least a couple hours before we reached the location. I leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing as I thought about everything that could go wrong today.

"Hey," Roland shouted. I looked back at him. "Is it true you two got hitched?"

"Absolutely," Anders said, holding his hand up to display the ring.

"What, did you think I was lying?" I heard Jowan say. "If I was going to make up stories I could do something far more interesting than a trip to the Chantry. I could have said Maggie got lyrium addled and jumped off the roof trying to fly. That would be a _great_ story."

"Jowan, you know someone will be repeating that as true in, like, a week." I sighed.

"I know," he said. "That's why I made sure it was about you." He laughed at that. "Of course, with the way all rumors about you go, it'll end up changing to 'The Hero of Ferelden was fighting three hundred darkspawn on a roof. When her companions ran out of lyrium she grabbed one under each arm and flew them to safety before returning to kill the remaining darkspawn by blinking at them.'" Everyone laughed at that.

"It really is a bit much, isn't it?" I said. "One of the mages at the Chantry in the city asked me if it was true I once killed three templars with my bare hands."

"…did you?" Jowan asked, shocked.

"Don't you start that too!" I said. "Anders, Oghren, Nathaniel and I once killed three templars. I used Spellweaver. Not alone, and certainly not with my bare hands. Although…" I paused, thinking. "I can shoot _fire_ from my bare hands so I don't think that phrase really means the same thing when you're talking about mages."

Roland still seemed to be deep in thought. "So Anders," he said, looking up.

"Yes?"

"If you're married to my boss what does that make you?"

"Um…" Anders looked at me, confused. I shrugged. "Your boss' husband? Is this a trick question?"

Rose groaned. "He thinks you'll get some kind of promotion."

"What?" Anders laughed, shouting over his shoulder so he could keep an eye on the road. "Are we some kind of royal family now?" He shook his head, glancing at me and rolling his eyes. "Nothing new as far as the order is concerned, I'm still a Senior Warden, for as much as that's ever meant. I have a nice new title I'm fairly sure I'll never use unless someone really gets on my bad side, but that's about it."

"I still can't believe you told him about that, Maggie," Nathaniel shouted from his wagon.

"He would have found out eventually," I yelled back. "When we got announced as Bann Margaret and Lord Anders of Griffon Coast at next official function in Denerim I think the pieces would fall into place."

"_Lord_ Anders?" Roland said, doubling over with laughter. I shook my head, turning my attention back to trying to sense the darkspawn.

My mind began to hum when we were a few miles from the caves. "Boss?" Tobias called. I looked over at him. "This is different," he said, looking wary.

"Different how?" I said, but realized what he meant. "Oh blast, they've called in reinforcements!" I could sense far more than a dozen darkspawn now. I could pick up what might have been as many as fifty, and we weren't even close enough for any of us to pick up the low level monsters in the caves.

"They must have known we were here." He pushed his hair back. "I'm sorry, I tried to be careful."

"Not your fault," I said. "It's a two way link, remember? If we can sense them, they can sense us. We always knew this would be a risk." I looked forward. My mind was starting to pull at me, and I flexed my fingers a few times, trying to relax. "Better this than hiding again, moving somewhere else."

"We should stop here," Nathaniel shouted from the other wagon. I nodded and the horses came to a protesting halt.

Hopping down, I drew my weapons. The darkspawn line was holding steady, not far from us. "Everyone," I shouted. "As you probably guessed, this is going to be a bit messier than we expected." A few grumbles. "Hey, they're trying to stand and fight. That's better than running and hiding again. I'm getting pretty damn sick of chasing these bastards all over the country, how about you?" That seemed to reassure a few people. "We're Grey Wardens! Monsters have nightmares about _us_. We _are_ the legend and nothing can stand against us. So let's go!"

"You are getting better at that," Anders said as we waited for everyone to form a line.

"I've just been grabbing random lines from the few recorded speeches from old commanders," I admitted. "I'm lousy at them."

"Well, it worked," he said. I could hear everyone shouting and cursing at the darkspawn. Now that we were closer I knew they outnumbered us, two or three to one. I nodded to Nathaniel, bracing myself to run. Grabbing a horn hung from his quiver, he blew into it. The ending of the sound was muffled by the roar of more than fifty Wardens out for blood.

We ran ahead, tearing through their first line easily. More followed, and we cut them down as well. I hadn't fought with so many at my side since the battle of Denerim. I'd forgotten how easy it could be. They outnumbered us, but what is killing two darkspawn to a Grey Warden? We were used to being outnumbered five to one, or more. Darkspawn weren't accomplished warriors or skilled swordsmen. Without the massive ogres, who could crush us in their bare hands, or the emissaries with their strange alien magic, basic darkspawn were actually a fairly easy foe. Their victory came from the disease they spread and sheer force of numbers. For us, the first was no concern.

"Did you see?" Nathaniel said, once the darkspawn had fallen. It seemed we had already taken out everything left outside to wait for us. "Painted."

I looked down, kicking a body so it rolled face up. Stripes of red and white were smeared across his face, as though he had dipped a hand in the paint and just wiped it on.

"They're trying to make more of themselves," I said, remembering the ghouls Rose had found in their last hideout. "They can't, though. Not without Warden blood. And they can't make Wardens without archdemon blood." These were… not quite like the Architect's advanced darkspawn, but clearly seemed to be more evolved than the standard variety.

"Which means they probably _want_ Warden blood," Anders added. "I _really_ don't like the idea of my _blood_ being a wanted commodity," Anders said.

"So we leave it off the recruitment posters," I said.

Once everyone fanned out we headed inside with three small teams. Oghren led one, Nathaniel the other, and I took the third. I had my eyes almost closed, I was trying so hard to pinpoint the exact location of the darkspawn. Tobias and Runi led us, keeping an eye out for traps. "Left," I said.

Runi looked around. "I think we should find a passage not far ahead. Slight breeze." We must have been on the right track, as she, Mal, and Tobias disarmed more than a dozen traps before we reached it. Tripwires crossed the passage one over another. It was getting too close to them to sense where they were exactly. That had an upside, though. They couldn't tell just where we were, either.

"Oh!" Tobias gasped out. I darted ahead of everyone, blades drawn, to see Sigrun standing in the passage, a look of shock on her face.

"Keep your voice down," she whispered to him. "Everyone else is at the next crossroads up. All the tunnels seem to converge there. I came back to look for you."

"You shouldn't be wandering these tunnels alone," I said. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Come on, there's darkspawn to kill," she said. "We can try and figure out which of us is more reckless later."

I laughed, hand over my mouth, and followed her. "All the tunnels lead here?" I asked.

"Aye," Oghren spoke up when we got closer. "We think there might be some kind of cavern ahead. Something big."

"Well, whatever it is, there's definitely darkspawn ahead. A lot of them." Anders looked concerned. "I wish we had more people."

"Too late for that," I said. "We turn around and who knows what they'll do."

We crept forward slowly. Sigrun put her hand up, stopping us. "Umf!" Jowan said, walking straight into my back. I could hear cursing in a foreign language up ahead.

"Pay attention," I hissed.

"Sorry," he whispered. "My _armor_ was digging into my neck, I was trying to fix it." He made a face at me and grinned.

"I'm going to _kill you_," I whispered, trying not to laugh. "This is serious, you know."

He shook his head, pointing forward. Sigrun was gesturing to me. "Maker's breath," I gasped, seeing Tobias hanging half over the edge of a huge drop I hadn't noticed in the dark. "Help me pull him back up," she said. "He's got a hold of Mal's arm." With Oghren's help we pulled him back onto the ledge, grabbing Mal's arms and helping him once Tobias was on solid ground.

"Didn't… even… see… drop," Mal panted, looking shaken.

"Go have a seat away from the edge," I said. "Catch your breath, you're safe."

"Safe?" he asked, grinning slightly.

"Well, as safe as any of us ever are," I admitted.

He nodded and worked his way to the back of the group. "Good job," I told Tobias.

"Night vision," he said, grinning. "Shame we can't all be elves."

I chuckled. "The rest of us will have to muddle through somehow." He went back to check on Mal, I turned to Sigrun. "How far are you thinking?"

"Twenty feet? Thirty?" She shrugged. "Far enough we can't climb down from here since they'll pick us off the walls like bugs before we get halfway to the ground, and we can't jump unless you like broken legs."

"There has to be another way down," I said. "They can't be scaling the bare walls every time they attack."

"If there is it might be from a completely different cave entrance. Between the three groups we've been all over here."

I groaned, sitting on the ground. "I have an idea. It might be a bit… messy."

"Messy's better than nothing," Nathaniel said.

"I _like_ messy," Oghren added. Well, I suppose that settled it.

"Jowan," I called, waving him over. "Can you still do that grease spell?"

"The one we used to do outside the templar's doors? Of course."

"If you would," I said, gesturing to the pit. While he cast I gestured Anders and Dermott closer. "Think… 'fire' I said. "_Lots_ of fire."

"There," Jowan said. "I can't see a _thing_ but that's the largest area I've ever covered with that spell."

"Good," I said. "Now they burn."

The first fireballs set the grease on fire, filling the pit with light. I could see perhaps thirty darkspawn at the bottom, all in a panic. Seeing us, the emissaries began to target spells in our direction. I suspect, like us, they had known we were close but not exactly where. I saw a cave opening opposite us and aimed a fireball at it, sending the darkspawn who were trying to escape flying back. A well targeted earthquake from Dermott collapsed the opening completely, leaving them trapped. Several began trying to climb the pit walls.

"Archers!" I shouted, no longer worried about them hearing us.

Nathaniel and Tobias began to pick them off the walls, just as Sigrun warned they would do to us if we tried to climb. Even Mal, apparently recovered, sat on the edge, taking out any who tried to climb below us.

"Maker's breath," Dermott gasped. "There are people down there with them!"

I looked closer. Now that half the pit, which actually seemed to contain some rough wooden furniture, was filled with flames I could see a lot more detail. There were several humans in cages set along the wall. More humans, as well as some dwarves and elves, clung to the edge of the room, standing among the darkspawn, screaming in terror and trying to avoid our spells. Perhaps thirty people in total. There were also, by my count, at least eight of the Architect's advanced darkspawn, and two that had fallen already that might have been. Most of the emissaries were trying to dodge our spells and fire on us simultaneously, not having much success at either due to our elevated position.

Crowded among everyone were normal darkspawn, seemingly torn between their desire to attack the humans, the desire to climb the cliff and escape the fire, and the instinct to attack us which caused them to simply throw themselves fruitlessly at the wall below our ledge.

"Maggie, we have to stop, there's _people_," he repeated.

"No," I replied, voice flat.

"What!"

"You heard me," I said, taking a step back so an inferno spell cast by Anders didn't take off my eyebrows. "Aim for them first to end their suffering if you want to be merciful, but we're not letting the darkspawn get away. Not when we have so many trapped. Not after all these years chasing them." He started to protest, I stared him down, adding "that is an _order_." There were too many of them and not enough of us to start picking them off one at time. They'd scale the walls well before we made it through a quarter of them.

With a grim nod Dermott resumed casting spells.

We all seemed to be trying to consciously avoid the row of cages, and it didn't take long for the darkspawn to realize that. They squeezed between them, sending the caged people into even more of a frenzy, as they started to throw themselves at the bars.

With a grimace, I turned my spells in that direction. Closing my eyes I tried not to hear the screams as I sweat from the inferno.

After almost an hour the pit was nothing but a smoking, empty hole, lit only by burning corpses.

"I think that's all of them," I said. I wasn't able to sense anything around us.

"If not, I'm sure we've struck a major blow," Nathaniel said, misunderstanding my meaning. His statement was just as accurate, though.

"I'm not sensing anything," I clarified. Everyone nodded. "Let's go."

We made our way through the tunnels, covered with soot and grime from standing over roaring fire spells for so long. My gloves were burned, nearly destroyed. Anders put a hand on my back. "Are you all right?" he said, low enough that only I could hear him.

"No worse than usual," I sighed. "That's not the first time I've had to kill innocent people, and I doubt it'll be the last."

"Odds are every one of them was already tainted," he pointed out.

"I know," I said. "Doesn't make listening to them scream any easier, though."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "So you want to check on Jowan and I'll check on Dermott?"

"Maybe I should talk to Dermott," I said, wincing.

"I wouldn't recommend it. He's looking at you like he wants to take your head off right now."

I sighed, agreeing to his plan before squeezing his hand. "How you doing?" I asked Jowan after walking over to him and matching his pace.

"Making sure I'm not about to have some kind of breakdown?" he asked.

"Something like that, yeah," I admitted. "That sort of thing isn't easy. I just wanted to see if you needed anything."

"Don't worry, I'll wait until I get home before I really start to pull my hair and rend my flesh."

"I'm serious, Jowan."

"So am I," he said. "I feel bloody awful right now. I've done a lot of horrible things in my life, a lot of _really _horrible things but… I've never imagined I'd have to stand and calmly _slaughter_ a bunch of defenseless people while they screamed. I've never even actually killed a person, just darkspawn." He raised a hand before I could say anything. "And I _know_ they were probably already corrupted, and I _know_ getting rid of all those darkspawn saved a lot more lives than the ones we ended, but that won't get the sound out of my head."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Remind yourself you were acting under orders if it makes things easier."

"I could," he said. "It would be a total lie, though. I'm not a _golem_, Maggie. I have free will, I'm not going to do something horrific just because you tell me to. I did it because it was the right thing to do… well, at least in terms of our job." He sighed. "Not sure if it would be the right thing to do in any other context, but I don't think I want to worry about that."

"I try not to," I said.

"So I take it this gets easier?"

"I'll let you know," I said. "I've just gotten _much_ better at hiding my feelings since my tower days. Really wouldn't do to have me doubled over sobbing, you know? Not exactly a morale builder." Sighing, I pushed my hair back. "I'll just keep it bottled up until we're home. Scream a bit, cry on Anders' shoulder. Maybe get good and drunk tonight. You're welcome to join us."

"I might at that," he said. "Not sure I want to explain to Nora why I'm pacing a hole in the floors. I'll bring some brandy."

Once outside the caves it became apparent that another fight had taken place. "Not many," Rose said, walking over to us. "They were trying to just run past us and go _in_ the caves, actually. Didn't even attack. But, well, we didn't let that happen."

I nodded. They must have come from the other side of the tunnel we collapsed, or slipped out before we closed off the exit. They were trying to stop our attack.

I wasn't sensing any darkspawn, so if there were more they fled.

Our trip home was quiet. I saw Dermott sitting with his head in his hands, leaning on Arthur, and winced with guilt.

"He'll be fine," Anders said. "Well, Warden-fine. I pointed out that they were probably already tainted, which is a death sentence. And that our job is to protect the world from darkspawn, not just a handful of people. He knows, and he did know, but it's just…"

"Never easy."

"No." He sighed and tugged gently on the reigns, guiding the horses through a fork in the road. "I know drinking is a horrible way to deal with problems," Anders said. "But really, right now I'm thinking that sounds like a fine idea."

"I already invited Jowan to join us."

"Glad we're thinking the same thing again," he said.

Dermott walked up to me as we were getting out of the wagons. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have questioned you. I know it was… we didn't have a..." he took a deep breath.

"It's all right," I told him. "I'd tell you it gets easier but, well, I'm headed upstairs to drink until I forget. You're welcome to join us."

He seemed to consider that for a moment. "Thanks, but no. I think I'm going to curl up in bed and have a nice comfortable breakdown. The kind where you accidentally set a pillow on fire. You know, really freak Arthur out." Dermott offered a small smile at that. I patted his shoulder and told him they could both join us if he changed his mind.

After I checked in with Varel and checked on everyone else, finding the Wardens less celebratory than such a major victory would usually make us, but not nearly as upset as the mages, I made it upstairs. Oghren was in the sitting room, three bottles in front of him. "You can't be planning to drink without me," he laughed.

"Not if I can help it," I said. "But Felsi isn't going to burst in and call me a bad influence again, is she?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I don't know where she got that idea. Should be fine, though. Told her you had a real rough day."

Anders came out of the bedroom in clean robes with wet hair. "Be back," I said, going to wash the soot off and change. When I returned to the sitting room Jowan had also arrived, also back in his robes.

"Can't get you two out of those dresses, can we," Oghren said, kicking his legs up on the table.

"You're just jealous since you would trip on the hem," Jowan said, cracking the wax seal on a bottle, taking a generous drink, and passing it to Anders.

After three or four bottles of liquor we became philosophical. "It's like… it's like…" Anders was struggling to make a point. "It's like, people have this idea of what we do. But they don't _really_ know. And if they did… I think they'd _hate_ us." He took another swig from a bottle. "Every time I hear someone going on about us like we're so…good… I just feel like a fraud."

"No," Jowan said, shaking his head. He was clinging to a bottle of brandy like it would run away if he let it. "They don't _want_ to know. They _choose_ not to know. Because it's easier that way. They want us to run around doing what we do, but they don't want to have to think about…" he winced, making a face. "Like today."

"Aye," Oghren said. "Like all those boys who show up at our gates and get sent right back home. Honor this and glory that. They'd wet themselves."

"Well. I have a theory," I said. I reached for the bottle and fell forward out of my chair. "Damn," I muttered, pulling myself back up. Anders put the bottle in my hand. "You are the absolute _best_," I said to him, taking a swig. "Can you _believe _we're married? How _weird _is that? Good, though," I added, tapping him on the nose. "Wait, was I saying something?"

"Your theory?" Jowan laughed. He had his legs tucked up under him, arm curled around a bottle.

"The griffon theory?" I tried to remember. "Oh, I think they'll come back. Like dragons. I hope it's soon. That would be so great."

Oghren shook his head. "Your theory about the _Wardens_," he said. "Or is this going to be like that time in Highever? Should we leave you two alone?"

"I can't remember," I said. "But I do know I am a _fantastic_ Grey Warden!" I punctuated this statement by somehow managing to tip my chair backwards, rolling out of it and on the ground. "Oops. All right, maybe not _now. _But usually!"

Anders helped me to my feet while Oghren picked the chair up, resetting it. I went to sit back down. "No," he said. "You go sit by Sparklefingers, maybe he can keep you from flopping all over." He shook his head, sitting down again. "Ancestors tits, can't any of you people handle your drink?" I curled up next to Anders. He wrapped both his arms around me, realized he couldn't do that and drink at once, and quickly shifted so just one was around me. I leaned against him.

"_I'm_ fine," Jowan said. "What happened in Highever?"

"Noooo!" I howled. "Don't tell the story. It's a… bad story."

"I think it's a _fantastic_ story!" Oghren announced. "Maggie's so drunk I don't think she can even see straight- kinda like now. So she climbed up on Anders' lap, apparently forgetting we're all there. Which is just fine by me," he added with a rude laugh. I covered my face. "That was a very _educational_ evening. Always wondered what you folks did with those long legs. Never would have figured she could actually hold on to someone with them. Even when he tried to stand up to pry her off! Like a vice." He raised a glass to Anders, who grinned and returned the gesture.

"Hey!" he said when I elbowed him.

"Please stop talking!" I said. Jowan was doubled over laughing.

"Granted, it wasn't as _funny_ as right after the two of them met. When they set the Keep on fire playing cards."

Jowan looked over at us. "You combined the lightning from mage rules and the drinking from normal rules, didn't you?"

"…maybe," I admitted. "But really, it was just a blanket too close to the fireplace."

"Have to say, Oghren running carrying a battleaxe while wearing nothing but his smallclothes was a… unique expierence," Anders said. "I was tempted to hunt him down and set him on fire after, though."

"Why?" Oghren said.

"Since I was actually getting somewhere before you ran in yelling at us for being drunk! You had to go and remind her about being responsible, didn't you?"

"You were not," I laughed.

"Oh yes I was," Anders insisted. "All I needed was maybe another couple jokes, an excuse to touch your hair, and a nice comment about your eyes. I know these things." He sighed. "It took me _months_ to get that close again. _Months!_"

Jowan snorted. "Wait… this is the same Maggie we're talking about? The Maggie who considered a verbal introduction _optional_ for years?"

"The very same," Anders agreed. "Lucky me, I meet her when she's in the middle of some _responsibility_ phase." He sighed before chuckling. "I suppose I really shouldn't complain now, all things considered."

"Probably not," Jowan agreed. "You know, the whole 'just married' thing."

Anders nodded before looking up at them. "Hey, that's right. We're newlyweds. What are you two still doing here? Go home!"

I could still hear Oghren and Jowan laughing when they were halfway to the stairs.

* * *

_Binge drinking makes everything better. Well, at least until they sober up... _

_Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Hope you have a lovely lovely weekend._


	68. It'll certainly keep things interesting

I groaned, clutching my head. As I woke up slowly the previous day rushed back to me. I was barely able to make it to the window before getting violently ill. Thankfully no one was below the window or they would have had a very unpleasant shock.

Anders, hearing me get sick, ran in to find me curled up on the floor below the window. "Noooo!" I said when he began rushing towards me, blue light surrounding his hands.

"What? Why not?"

"I don't deserve to feel better. I deserve to suffer. I'm a horrible person."

Anders sighed and sat near me, pulling me to a sitting position so he could get his arms around me. "You're being crazy," he said.

"No I'm not," I protested. "All those people. I killed all those people."

"Stop," he said, holding me to him. "Maggie, love, you _know_ there was no other choice." He sighed. "It's horrible. I feel awful, too. But _hundreds_ have been killed by these darkspawn since we killed the Architect. They _kidnapped_ all those people, and would have taken more eventually." He was right but I had already decided I would be kicking myself and didn't intend to stop any time soon.

"Hey," I said, when I realized Anders had cast the spell anyways, clearing my head.

"You're being irrational," he replied when I wouldn't budge. "I know you feel awful. I do, Jowan does, and so does Dermott. But you aren't helping anyone sitting up here feeling sorry for yourself." He yanked me unceremoniously to my feet. "Come on, Maggie, this isn't you. You need to go downstairs, Dermott's barely holding it together and finding out you're up here crying and moping won't help him. You need to be the boss today and I promise that later on you can cry and mope as much as you want."

"I just can't get their screams out of my head," I said.

"Neither can I. I don't think I want to, though. Whenever I get too full of myself and start believing our reputations are accurate I can remember that."

"_You're_ worried about getting too full of yourself?" I said, laughing despite my mood.

"Oh, very funny. Or I can just talk to my beloved wife when I need to be taken down a peg, apparently." He raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Don't you give me that," I said. "You're the one who has said, _repeatedly, _'I'm very good at everything.'"

"Well I _am_," he said. "But I'm not a hero. Neither are you. We're not _supposed_ to be- _you're_ the one who told me that. We make the ugly choices so other people don't have to." He leaned back against a bedpost, sighing. "And really, think about all we know. They intentionally infect people with their corruption. The prisoners Rose found when they fled their last hideout, the ghouls we saw at the Architect's lab when we were taken prisoner… they were all either dead from it or beyond recovery. Those people were already dead. Killing them before they became slaves to the darkspawn was a mercy."

He was right, but that didn't make it any easier. The one consolation was that our attack apparently solved the problem with the talking darkspawn. While sightings were still reported over the next few weeks and months, they were few and far between, much more like what one would expect several years after a blight. Tiny disorganized bands near caves and deep roads entrances.

Of course, that didn't stop the trickle of Grey Warden hopefuls through our gates. Even sending away all but the best of them we were still putting half a dozen candidates through the Joining every month. A small garrison was in place at Redcliffe handling the sightings in the western end of Ferelden, and a group had been picked to set up in the south, on the borders of the Dalish lands. I made sure to include humans, elves and dwarves among them as a very visible reminder that the Grey Wardens serve everyone, not just human lands. Our communication with them had been remarkably friendly so far, and I planned to visit as soon as we returned from Jader, leaving the garrison in place when we returned with recruits.

"I have to go to Denerim next week," I said, walking into the office.

"Is it the anniversary _already_?" Nathaniel said.

"Five years," I said, falling behind my desk. "Makes me feel _old_."

He chuckled at that. "You're younger than me. Actually, you're the youngest of all the Senior Wardens. Well, the original ones."

"True," I said. "Just… five years. Wow." I shuffled through the mail. "So, you want to come with us?"

"Not really," he said. "You know I hate dealing with the politicians. But Sigrun does. So I suppose that means I am." I laughed at that. "Who else?"

"Well, Oghren, obviously. I told him he could bring Felsi and the kid, since Alistair was going to give some kind of commendation to everyone who fought with us during the blight. He wants his daughter to see him looking like a big hero. And we're leaving for Orlais almost as soon as we get back, so he'd like the time with them."

"Can't blame him there. I assume that means Zevran will be there, which means Anders won't leave your side even on threat of death." I nodded, laughing as I started to go through the papers on my desk. Several unopened letters were among them. Varel had suggested I get an assistant to open my mail, but too much came through that just wasn't meant for eyes outside the Wardens.

"Anything good?" Nathaniel asked.

"The Orlais Wardens asked if we could bring them some archdemon blood," I said, setting the first aside. "As does Antiva," I said, glancing at the next. "Oh, and Rivain. All with comments like 'we have enough for only a dozen more joinings before we are completely out'"

"I'm seeing a pattern," he laughed.

"It was bound to happen. We're probably the only ones who have any, they've all been stretching their supplies out for four hundred years. Even at a drop at a time that won't last forever."

"True," Nathaniel said. "We should have sent them some already, really. I didn't even think about it."

"Oh, and Weisshaupt informs me I _will_ be bringing archdemon blood for _everyone_ to the summit. With detailed instructions on quantities, as well as safe storage and packing for transport. And orders that I should not let the crate from my sight while we travel."

"I'm amazed they waited this long before demanding it."

"Me too," I agreed. "You're right, though. We should have taken care of this ages ago. I would have sent it years ago if I stopped to think."

"How do we store and transport the stuff?" he asked. "It'll eat through almost any container."

"Glass bottles," I said. "Opaque ones, with a wax coated cork. Left right side up to minimize contact between the cork and the blood since it will dissolve that. Or metal flasks. Those are better."

"In either case I would make sure they have a poison symbol on the bottle," he said. "You don't want some fool thinking they're liquor."

I laughed. "Can you even _imagine_? What a surprise that would be. For about ten seconds until they dropped over." I scanned the rest of the letter. "They also trust my judgment with regards to any Ferelden-Chantry issues and remind me our stability in the region is based on maintaining a good relationship with the nobility and populace of Ferelden, not the Chantry."

"That is a fairly pointed hint," he said. I chuckled, agreeing.

I opened the next letter, it was from Alistair, written in the Warden encryption, of all things. "Ohh, secrets," I said, pulling my key out of the desk. I probably didn't need it at this point but I liked to confirm just to be sure.

"Dear Maggie," I translated, reading aloud, "Since you are my sister in all but blood I wanted you to know before it became public. The line of…" I looked at the rest, confirming the translation repeatedly before squealing.

"What?" Nathaniel said, standing up. "Is it good? _Bad?_" He picked up the letter and scanned the key quickly. "The line of Calenhad is safe," he said. "Wait… does he mean…?"

I read the rest. "It is of course too soon to say if it will be a little Duncan or an Eleanor, but Wynne has moved into the palace to monitor Elissa's condition. She assures us everything is normal and healthy!" I jumped to my feet and shrieked, hugging Nathaniel. "Thank the Maker!"

"I can't believe she got pregnant so fast!" he said. "And he's been a Warden for… what, seven years?"

"Magic," I said. "Anders whipped up some potions for them. Oooh! I have to let him know they worked!"

"That _is_ a relief," Nathaniel said. "After Cailan a lot of people wouldn't have rest easily until they knew the king had an heir. A stable Ferelden is nothing but good for us." I nodded in agreement. "You have one more letter," he said. "Want me to check it while you tell Anders?"

"Nah," I said, opening it quickly and scanning the contents. "Oh."

He looked up. "Well?"

I set it back down and sighed. "I've been excommunicated. And branded a heretic. And a maleficar."

Nathaniel sucked in a breath, obviously as surprised as I had been. "You seem… very calm," he said, eyes wide. "Maggie, are you all right?"

"I'm not entirely shocked_,_" I admitted. "Although the heretic-maleficar thing is a bit of a surprise. I _think_ that means templars are supposed to kill me on sight, so it'll certainly keep things interesting."

"At the very least," Nathaniel said. "What are you going to do?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. The Wardens don't require me to be in good standing with the Chantry. They don't even require someone to be an Andrastian. I guess I'll have some more money if I'm not paying tithes. Maybe I'll look into that stone and ancestor thing the dwarves have. Although I don't know who my ancestors are, so that might exclude me." Nathaniel looked dubious. "Well, I'm sure it will hit me later. Right now I'm so happy for Alistair I really don't think any bad news short of an archdemon could ruin it."

"That is some amazing news," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if people were celebrating in the streets when it gets announced." I agreed before going to find Anders.

"Did you get one of these?" Anders asked as soon as I walked in our room, where he was sitting with Dermott and Moira, books on healing spells spread out around them. He was holding up a paper with the seal of the Divine on it.

"Yep," I said. "I've got some good news, though. Might balance it out."

"That would have to be some pretty impressive good news," he said. "I'm a _heretic!_"

"I'm a heretic _and _a maleficar," I said. "So, you know, could be worse. But that's not the point. Remember the potions you made for Alistair and Elissa?" I asked.

"Of course, to help counteract the decreased fertility of Grey Wardens," he said. "It wasn't tough since he was the Warden. If it was her it could be a lot more complicated. I mean, even normal women are only fertile a few days a month as it is… and I know you almost never get your monthly—"

"All right, Anders," I cut him off, realizing my almost-nonexistent reproductive cycle didn't really need to be a topic of conversation. "We _really_ don't need to have a discussion on this now. That's not the good news. Now, think about why I'm asking if you remember the potions?"

He went silent for a moment before his eyes went wide. "You mean?"

"Yep! He wanted me to know before it went public. They're announcing it… well, probably today or tomorrow in Denerim."

Anders cheered, giving me a hug. Dermott and Moira exchanged a glance. "So… there's an heir?" he said after a moment.

"Well, not yet, but in a few months there will be!"

"How wonderful," Moira said, clapping her hands in excitement. "I hope it's a prince. King Maric was so handsome, and his sons are both the very image of him. No one would complain about another big blonde Theirin king." I giggled, realizing big and blonde were both words that could be used to describe Ronan. Apparently Moira had a type. "Although a beautiful princess in lovely dresses would certainly make people smile, too."

"I think Alistair wants a boy," I said. "Someone he can teach to use a sword and take horseback riding. And name Duncan. Especially the last part."

"He can teach a girl all those things," Dermott said. "Although the name might be a bit of a burden."

"Nah, Elissa would teach her how to use a sword if it was a daughter. Evidently our queen's no slouch with weapons, either."

"Then when it comes time to find her a match all the young men in the nobility would be terrified of her," Anders laughed.

"I think 'can end up _king_' really trumps 'afraid she'll show me up in the practice yard,'" Dermott laughed.

"Prince consort, I think," I said. "Not sure though. I don't get how half this nobility nonsense works." I flopped down into one of the chairs. "I can't even _tell_ you how relieved I am. For five years there's been a tiny voice in the back of my mind saying '_you_ made him king, he'll never have an heir, and when there's another civil war after he dies it'll be _all your fault_.'"

"Plus it'll be great fun," Anders said. "The whole country will be one big party when the baby's born."

"I know," I grinned. "I bet there'll be a dance in town."

"Probably," he agreed. "My mother said there were huge celebrations when Cailan was born. Dances, parades, everything you could imagine. They even got these special bombs from Nevarra to set off, they made colored explosions in the sky." I tried to picture that, not quite able to. It sounded… interesting.

As it turned out, Anders was right. We had to stop in the city on our way to Denerim, despite it being slightly out of the way, so we could make an appearance at a huge celebration for the royal couple. It had originally been so I could dedicate a memorial to those lost in the blight, but the good news put everyone in mood more tuned to joy than mourning. I could actually hear the chantry bells ringing in celebration when we were only a few miles out from the Keep.

Oghren and I, being the only two of our group who actually fought in the blight, stood to either side and removed the covering over the memorial. It had been commissioned by the local merchant guild, and set in the center of the marketplace. Had someone asked I would have gladly paid, but I didn't find out until long after plans were set in motion. I didn't even know what was under the cloth, to be honest.

I winced when I saw it. It wasn't that the statue was ugly, it was actually quite well made. I suspect the same stonecarver who did our statue of Loghain was behind it. It wasn't inappropriate for the occasion, either. It was just… so depressing. So painfully depressing it nearly brought tears to my eyes. For a memorial to those lost in war that isn't always a bad thing, I suppose. I just prefer things to be a bit more on the 'mourn those who we lost but celebrate that we won in the end' side of things. A man and woman, in peasant dress, stood in a protective posture over two crouching children. He held a sword, she had a bow. The children looked scared, I could actually see wrinkles carved into the woman's skirt where the little boy clutched it in his tiny stone fists, but the adults' expressions were closer to defiant. It was clearly supposed to represent some average Ferelden family who faced down the darkspawn to protect their children. And, since it was a memorial to the dead, I suppose we were to imagine the darkspawn overwhelming them not long after this frozen moment in time.

_Painfully_ depressing.

Other than the simple legend 'In Memoriam' and the words 'fourth blight' with the years the base was blank. I was surprised to see they went with the old fashioned Tevinter phrasing, but it was so common almost anyone in Thedas would understand it no matter what language they spoke.

"We gather on an unusual day," I said to the assembled crowd. "While we remember the many friends, relatives, and neighbors who fell in the blight five years ago, we also celebrate the impending birth of an heir to the Ferelden throne." Of course, everyone cheered for that. I hoped Elissa wouldn't have a problem with the baby now that the entire nation had been informed, but Anders said she 'waited long enough' to announce it, whatever that meant. There hadn't been a clear line of succession in almost ten years, since Maric died, that was bound to make people nervous. You could almost _feel_ the nation's collective relief. "It is, I think, an important contrast. We mourn our dead, but life continues. Many gave their lives so Ferelden would not fall. Because of their sacrifices we remain, we owe it to them to make the most of the time we have. We owe it to them to remain strong, and remember Ferelden has never been a nation to accept defeat. Orlais learned this, and now the darkspawn know it as well."

Everyone cheered and I stepped away from the statue, allowing people to get a closer look. I didn't really think the darkspawn knew, or cared, about our famously stubborn national character. It did seem like the proper sort of thing to say, though. Far more comforting than saying 'the darkspawn are mindless, if they even remember there _was _a recent blight I'd be amazed'. We stuck around, moving through the crowd so people could have a chance to speak to a Warden if they wanted to. Most seemed to want to at least shake our hands, and since that sort of thing kept us popular I wouldn't object.

I saw the Revered Mother standing with Ser Bryant, admiring the statue. "Rather morbid, isn't it," she said when Anders and I approached. "I'd prefer something reminding us of what we won rather than all we lost."

"Same here," I said. "Well made, though. The sculptor is very talented."

She gestured for us to follow her. The four of us stepped a few feet from the crowd, where we could speak with more privacy. "Did you get letters from the Divine as well?"

I nodded. "We've both been excommunicated and declared heretics," I said. "Lucky me, I've also been declared a maleficar."

"As have we," she said. "I got another letter from the Grand Cleric, though." I raised my eyebrow. "Her exact words were to 'ignore any communication from Val Royeaux and continue with life as usual.'"

"So you think she knew this would happen?" I asked.

She nodded. "The Grand Cleric found out in advance. She thinks its bluster to bring Ferelden back in line, not an actual threat. The Chancellor was also excommunicated, as was the queen. Not the king, though."

"Strange," I said. "Maybe they thought Alistair was too popular, people would think it went too far?"

"I suspect that," Ser Bryant said. "His Majesty's popularity is well known, even in Orlais. The queen is an unknown factor. That this happened so soon after their marriage may cause the Divine to blame her influence as well." He glanced over at the smiling crowds. "I suspect Her Majesty's standing in Ferelden is _quite_ secure right now." Ser Bryant smiled himself a moment later. "An heir at last, after so many years of uncertainty... I couldn't be more relieved. Another war of succession after a single generation would rip the nation apart."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I don't think Elissa has much to worry about. So, should we ignore our letters as well, or do I need to worry about being attacked in any Chantry outside this city?"

"No, you should ignore it," the Revered Mother said. "The Grand Cleric also asked me to pass along her apologies when I saw you. For her… less than tactful bargaining techniques."

"Good," Anders said quickly. I nodded in agreement.

"Glad we shouldn't worry about being barred from every Chantry in the nation," Anders said. "I'm not sure if I want to start worshiping my ancestors and the stone. And, you know, not having to worry about a constant threat of death is always nice." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, _another_ constant threat of death. We get enough of that from the darkspawn." I laughed, as did he, but the templar and priest both looked at us like we were slightly unhinged.

Wishing them a good day, we left the celebration to check on the status of the new school in the old Bann's estate. Really, it wasn't my business, but I was curious. We passed half a dozen guards milling about outside one of their stations the way, leaning against a wall laughing and talking. Anders pointed them out to me, I had to smile when I realized one member of the group wore a staff on his back in place of the usual sword and shield. Seeing us, they all turned to salute. "Fantastic," I muttered to myself. Anders made a noise of agreement.

I could see several templars wandering the grounds as we approached. Those who noticed us paused to salute. "We're just being nosey," I admitted. "I wanted to see how things were going."

Ser Irminric saw us and walked over. "This is a stunning estate," he said. "The Circle owes you their thanks." I blushed, insisting it was nothing. The fuss made me a bit uncomfortable, to be honest. "The First Enchanter is inside, I'm sure he'd be happy to see you, Commander."

Thanking him, Anders and I went into the building. Irving was in the main hall, directing several workmen with furniture. "No," he was saying. "The bunk beds go to the _fourth_ floor. The second floor will be classrooms!" The workmen departed and he put a hand to his forehead. I could hear him muttering under his breath about his doubts as to if they could actually count or not.

"Hello?" I called.

The First Enchanter spun around and looked at us, a warm smile quickly replacing the surprise on his face. "Margaret, Anders, it is good to see you. I had hoped to visit but it seems like no one here can accomplish anything without me standing over their shoulder."

"The story of my life," I said. "So… what do you think?"

He laughed at that. "About what in specific? Things have been rather exciting lately. Almost too exciting for an old man like me, but I must say I'm glad these changes are taking place while I'm still around to see them." I smiled, figuring he would approve of the new developments. "This building… it is remarkable. We really cannot thank you enough."

I shrugged. "It's not from me, it's from the Wardens of Ferelden. Better it go to use than sit boarded up while we figured out what to do with it."

"But you should still name the school after her," Anders added. I laughed at his joke, elbowing him.

"That is on the short list of names," the First Enchanter said, not realizing we were kidding.

"Oh, please don't," I said, blushing. "There are too many things named after me as it is."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Modesty? The years have changed you." Anders snickered and I made a face at him. "I've been told congratulations are in order? Greagoir mentioned it."

"Yep," Anders said, slinging his arm across my shoulders. "We even dressed like normal people. It was quite a sight."

Irving chuckled. "Well, you both deserve happiness. I know your lives aren't easy. I'm glad for you."

We thanked him before asking for his honest opinions on the changes. Irving was, not surprisingly, in favor of them. He thought it was a brilliant idea, and hoped the tower itself could be abandoned soon. "It really is a miserable building, after all." Wynne, apparently, thought we had all gone mad, and loathed the idea of retiring the tower on Lake Calenhad. She also complained about all the young blood leaving it since so many mages had taken up healer and guard jobs across the country in the last few months. Apparently it was still only acceptable for her to leave, I guess the rest of us had to stay put.

After a few more minutes of polite discussion we left to rejoin the others. "You know, he doesn't seem as bad as I remembered," Anders remarked. "I used to _hate_ him, but he's actually… fairly nice."

"Maybe because he doesn't have to worry about you running away anymore?" I said. "I suspect he's always been a tiny bit on the Libertarian side of the fence. Just a hunch."

"You might be right," Anders said.

Nathaniel seemed thrilled to be rescued from the crowd still milling around the marketplace. "Did you abandon us to sneak off to some dark alley?" he demanded when we returned.

"What?" I said, shocked. "No, we went to say hello to the First Enchanter. He's getting the new school set up."

Nathaniel nodded and turned to Oghren. "Told you," he said. "Pay up." Oghren, grumbling, handed him several coins.

We headed out of the city, Oghren carrying his daughter on his shoulders. "Oghren, did you really think we would—" I paused, remembering the small child, "Um, do _that_ in the middle of the city, in the middle of the day?"

"Yep," he said, laughing. "I guess it's not as romantic as the _deep roads_ or anything, but I know how you two are."

"Do what, Aunt Maggie?" he daughter asked from her position on Oghren's shoulders, long red braid bouncing on her back as Oghren walked. I kept forgetting she was old enough to at least understand what we were saying most of the time, even if she missed the subtext.

"Don't you _dare_ answer that," Felsi snapped, pointing at me.

I laughed. "Sorry, kiddo, you heard your mom. Wait another ten years or so and we can talk." Felsi sighed at that but Oghren laughed hard enough he almost shook the little girl right off his shoulders.

"I suppose this means singing dirty songs in the wagon is out?" Anders said. "Shame."

"Since when do you sing dirty songs?" I said.

"Not normally," Anders admitted. "But I did once get in trouble for teaching all the junior apprentices the words to 'A Wizard's Staff Has a Knob on the End'. Seeing Irving must have reminded me of that."

I burst out laughing. "Oh, I remember that one. I haven't heard that in _years_. You know, I was only ten or so when I learned it. I had _no idea_ how dirty it was at the time. And I taught it to everyone else before I found out, too!" Laughing more, I resisted the urge to start singing.

I couldn't help but notice Anders was humming softly to himself when we climbed up into our wagon.

* * *

_I have to share this fantastic drawing of Maggie and Anders from Galagraphia who just started reading the first story! She has tons of fantastic Anders drawings so check them out. (remove the spaces for the URL to work)_ galagraphia. deviantart. com/ art/ Never-Boring-sketch- 177678057

_The Discworld reference is because Miri1984 once made a comment that she imagined Maggie aging into a more attractive Nanny Ogg. I've been picturing her and Anders in their less than respectable middle age teaching that song to the new recruits ever since then. And looking for a way to work it into the story somehow. _

_And, if you haven't seen it yet, I have a recent one-shot story looking at two scenes from Anders' point of view. It's listed on my profile.  
_

_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, and for being patient with my slower updates now that I'm back in school_


	69. Like you were just released from prison

I decided I did not enjoy traveling with children.

"Aunt Maggie," Oghren's daughter tugged at the hem of my robes while I made breakfast after our first night on the road.

"What do you need, kiddo?" I asked. It just seemed… odd to call this tiny dwarf child by my name.

"Why were you yelling at Uncle Anders last night?"

I looked down at her, confused. "I wasn't," I said. "Where did you get that idea?"

"I heard you," she said. "You were shouting his name in your tent. Did he do something bad?"

_Oh Maker's breath,_ I thought. And here I was trying to be _quiet_. "Um, I can't remember," I said. "But I think your mother is looking for you." She stumbled off and I put my hands over my face, wincing.

Anders laughed, having heard the entire conversation. "Oh, she doesn't even know what she heard. Don't worry about it."

"Felsi is going to _kill us_." I said.

"Hm," he considered that. "You may be right." Anders stretched his legs, sighing. "Looks like the rest of this trip just became _much_ less fun." He stood up and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

"Try this," I said, holding the spoon up.

"Perfect," Anders declared. "Look at this, my wife making me breakfast! What's next, we settle on a farm?"

I giggled. "Aren't we suddenly so domestic." He responded to that by kissing my neck.

_"Must_ you two act like you were just released from prison?" came a shout. We turned to see Felsi, hands on her hips, glaring at us.

"Yes," Anders replied smartly.

She grumbled, storming over to the fire to pour coffee. "There are topics I'd rather not discuss with my daughter when she's _four_."

"Maybe seeing a couple who doesn't call each other bronto droppings and nug humpers all day will be good for her," Anders pointed out. I had to admit, he was probably right. But, well, we should keep the nighttime noise to a minimum.

Of course, that new quiet plan didn't exactly put me in a good mood the next day. I was almost _happy_ when we were attacked by bandits on the road. "Stay down," I ordered Felsi, who was holding her daughter protectively. "Stay near them," I said to Anders. In an absolute worst case scenario he could throw a magical force field around the two of them until we took care of the bandits. Jumping from the wagon I grabbed my daggers and began throwing out spells.

"Oghren, left flank," Anders called from his position on the bench of the wagon. "Sigrun, right behind you. Maggie, help Nathaniel." He was standing in the wagon, shooting off spells but also making sure no one would slip past us to hurt the unarmed woman and child we had in the group.

Turning, I saw Nathaniel holding a sword and dagger, trying to get two bandits off him at once. A lightningbolt sent one flying back, smoking as his body hit the ground. With a grateful nod towards me Nathaniel cleanly used both blades to behead the other before switching back to his much-preferred bow.

"All clear!" Anders declared a moment later.

I glanced around. We were covered in gore, and there were bodies… or, well, _parts_ of bodies everywhere. "Felsi, keep Maggie down for a bit while we clean up," I called. I was fairly sure any child, even _Oghren's_ child, would react badly to seeing a half dozen severed heads in the road.

The five of us quickly gathered the bandit's remains and pulled them to the side of the road, where Anders and I cast fire spells. "Sighard better appreciate all the trouble we're going through to keep his bannorn clean," I commented, climbing back into the wagon. Anders laughed, flicking the reigns to send us moving again. I could hear Oghren trying to explain what bandits were to his daughter as we continued on our way, and why killing them was a good thing.

"Take a look at Felsi," Anders whispered to me. I glanced back over my shoulder and giggled. She was staring at Oghren like a love-struck teenager. I suppose seeing him in action reminded her of whatever must have originally attracted her to him. Perhaps not surprisingly, the two of them disappeared, leaving little Maggie with Sigrun and Nathaniel. Anders and I were apparently not fit to watch children. No idea why, since we ended up being the ones who kept her entertained while they were off in the woods. Children, after all, _love_ fire. So, whenever she started to complain about being bored or wanting her mother, and I could see Nathaniel tense and look annoyed, I'd just conjure a ball of flame in my hands. Sure, Anders had to grab her hands a few times so she didn't _touch_ the fire, but at least it kept her entertained.

Of course, Felsi wasn't in agreement. "Oh, come on," I said when she stopped yelling. "I wasn't much older than her when I learned to cast that spell!"

"She really seemed to like it," Anders said. "Kids like things that glow. Even I know that!"

"This is why I asked _you_ to watch her," Felsi said, ignoring us and looking at Sigrun and Nathaniel, who were laughing hysterically on the other side of our campfire.

Sitting near the fire, Anders poked me in the side. I glanced over at him and he smirked, inclining his head towards the trees at the edge of the clearing we were currently camped in.

I winked at him and stood up, whispering to Sigrun that we were "going for a walk" as I passed her on my way to the woods.

She laughed, replying "have fun. Sure you don't want to grab the templar armor?"

I put my face in my hands. "You'll never drop that, will you?"

"Nope," she laughed. "Way too funny." Shaking my head, I followed Anders into the trees.

"_You're telling me one of them dresses up as a templar?"_ Oghren was saying. "_Wow. Kinky. It's her, right? No way is Sparklefingers in charge."_

"Shut up!" I screamed back over my shoulder.

"Actually I am," Anders called back at the same time, ducking away from me before I could kick him. Everyone back at camp laughed.

"This whole being quiet thing is really not much fun," Anders said as we climbed through undergrowth. "I've never realized how much you move around in your sleep before. I swear, every five seconds a different body part was bumping into me. Do you have any idea how distracting that is?"

"I know," I agreed. "But… I really don't _ever_ want to have that conversation with a child again. Ever."

"I'd be more afraid of getting yelled at by Felsi," he said, we both laughed. "So… where are we going?"

"No idea," I admitted. "I've been following you."

Anders spun around, grabbing me by the waist. "Well, if that's the case I think here is just fine." He bent over and kissed me before dropping a small blanket to the ground.

"You don't think they can hear us?"

He laughed. "Well, we can't hear _Oghren_, so I'm going to say… no."

I sat on the blanket, leaning back on my elbows. "I wish Sigrun would drop the templar armor thing, though."

Anders sat next to me. "Are you _actually_ embarrassed, or just embarrassed because you feel like you should be?"

Stretching and kicking my shoes off I thought about that. "The second one," I admitted. "It's not like I was _naked_ or anything. Although those apprentice robes are so tight on me now they don't leave much to the imagination."

"No, they don't," Anders agreed. "Never, ever get rid of them."

"They're ripped!" I reminded him. "You ripped the whole side open from hem right to the waist."

Breaking off from kissing my neck he chuckled. "Even better." My robes slipped over my shoulders as Anders untied the back laces. Their various component parts were already sitting next to me. I had to admit, by now Anders could get me out of them faster than I could manage myself. I was taking far longer on his, though. I couldn't help it. Whenever I managed a couple more of the buttons up the front of his robe I felt compelled to pause and run my tongue across the newly-revealed skin of his chest.

Finally done with the buttons, I ran both my hands across his skin and up to his shoulders, pushing the robes down. He groaned as I flicked my tongue against one nipple before trailing it across to the other. "Not that I'm complaining," Anders said, pulling me onto his lap. "But what _is_ your fascination with my chest today?"

I giggled. "You have no idea, do you?"

"No, I really don't," he said. "It can't be nearly as interesting as yours." He punctuated that by cupping my breasts in his hands and briefly running his tongue around one nipple, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. "See? Far more interesting."

"Not at all," I argued, shifting so I could wrap my legs around him. "You have… muscles," I said, not feeling particularly articulate. That was basically it, though. When I first encountered men outside the tower and realized just how muscular they could be without a shirt on I was amazed. Amazed, and rather happy. Most mages aren't known for physical strength, after all, and I had been surrounded by nothing but mages for my entire life. But even for all the muscles, they weren't, well, like me. While I didn't require a partner have magic, it was certainly nice. But, even better was that I knew another mage would never get upset or get the wrong idea if _I _used magic, and wouldn't think anything of it if I went off accidentally. Constantly being afraid of that put a damper on things.

"I have muscles?" he laughed. "Well, I do spend most of my time running around killing monsters. Sometimes even with a sword. It was bound to happen."

"Nah, you always have," I said. "At least for as long as I've known you. Most mages don't, though, you know."

"You do," he pointed out, squeezing my thigh with his hand.

"Well, yeah, but I do spend most of my time running around killing monsters," I replied, mimicking his words.

"True enough. That first day in the Vigil, when I saw you raise your hands for some kind of big area spell I got a look at your arms and thought 'wow, I bet she could snap me in half.'"

I laughed. "You did not, you liar."

"Well, maybe not in so many words. But I did notice you clearly got more… exercise than the average mage."

I chuckled, leaning against him. "My dressmaker yelled at me for my arms."

"Ignore her," Anders said. "Listen to me. I'm much more important."

"That I won't argue with," I replied.

A gust of wind whipped through the trees for a moment. Several red leaves, the first of the season to change, were blown free and drifted down, landing on us. Anders grinned and picked one up from the top of my head. "Like I said, I'm more important," he went on. "And I _adore_ your arms. I love how strong you are. It's fantastic. I don't have to worry about scaring you with magic since you're a mage, and I don't have to worry about accidentally snapping you in half or being too rough since you're easily as strong as I am."

I chuckled. "You know, strong or not, some people don't appreciate rough." I learned that fairly early on when a fellow apprentice called me insane for biting his lip.

"Well, I know _that,_" he said, making a face. "But _you _do. And that's great." He sighed, running a finger up and down my spine. "Do you have any idea how nice it is to just _be_ with someone, to not constantly worry about accidentally zapping them or biting too hard or doing something that will send them running?"

I giggled. "Hmmm, yes… yes, I would say I know what that's like. I know _exactly _what that's like."

"Yes, I suppose you would," he chuckled. "I had another thought."

"What's that?"

"I talk _far_ too much." My laughter at that was cut short when his lips descended on my neck. Letting my head fall back, I held on to his shoulders and gasped out his name when he did actually bite down. Moving my hips against his lap, I grinned when I heard Anders moan softly. I could feel his body start to respond and moved faster.

Grabbing me by the hair, he pulled my head forward and kissed me roughly. I ran my teeth across his bottom lip before nipping. The fingers that had been caressing a nipple pinched down roughly in response. "Oh, Maker," I moaned.

Anders made a noise of annoyance. "Was that his hand, then?" he said, eyebrow raised as sparks danced from his fingers to my skin.

I growled, my hips grinding against his lap. "No," I managed after a moment. "Yours," I said, biting his earlobe between each word. "Husband," I whispered in his ear, feeling his fingers dig into my hip as I nibbled again. "My love," I said. I could feel his breath, hot and damp, on the skin of my neck. "Anders," I finally moaned, and he groaned with appreciation, grabbing my hips roughly. I giggled at his reaction. Really, I had known what he would do. Anders seemed to consider it a personal offense if I said any name _but_ his, up to and including deities. Of course, he always responded with something violent and slightly painful and amazing, so I always did it anyways.

Of course, whatever he did when I finally gave him what he wanted was usually equally amazing. My head fell back once more, stuttering his name out as his fingers slid into me, thumb stroking in time with the thrusts of his hand. Panting and digging my nails into his shoulders, I moved in time against him, nearly falling backwards when his mouth latched onto one of my breasts. "Anders, now," I gasped, shifting my legs so I was kneeling as I straddled him.

Pulling back to look at me he smiled, kissing me deeply. "Love you, Maggie," he whispered, guiding my hips down onto him. Both of us moaned, clinging to each other as our bodies joined together. I began to move up and down, still clutching tightly to him, one hand clamped around his shoulders, the other entwined in his hair. The advantage of our current position became very obvious after a moment. Without needing to hold himself up Anders could run his hands across my body, touching me with his warm fingers or magic.

Nearly shrieking his name, I fell against him, panting and shuddering. We went still for a moment, kissing deeply, before he shifted position so I was on my back. Reaching up, I rested my hand on his cheek and leaned in for a kiss. I could see the blue-black sky overhead, stars twinkling, and smiled.

Anders looked down and a wicked grin spread across his features before he slammed back into me. My back arched involuntarily and I cried out, once again struggling for breath. He moved at a ruthless pace and I flung my arms out, digging my fingers into the moss and dirt of the forest floor. Nearly shrieking his name with every thrust, my heels drummed against the backs of his thighs. I grabbed him by the shoulders, my hands leaving streaks of dirt on his skin, and reached up, kissing him violently. After I bit down on his lip Anders tensed. As our mouths parted he all but howled my name before falling onto me, gasping for air.

Once he recovered enough to move we cuddled together on the blanket, his robes spread over us as we shivered. An inadvertent ice spell had left us both with damp hair. "Can we just stay out here all night?" Anders said, fingers absentmindedly twirling through my hair.

"I wish we could," I agreed.

"So why don't we?"

I laughed, elbowing him. "You know as well as I do it's not safe. Even if we didn't have to worry about bandits or darkspawn or whatever, there are animals out here. Imagine if we were attacked by a bear!"

He grinned, mulling the idea over. "I think it would be rather impressive to tell people we killed a bear while completely naked, don't you think?"

"Unless it came upon us while we were sleeping. Then we would have the great shame of being killed _by_ a bear while completely naked."

He sighed. "Fine, fine. Take all the fun out of it."

I wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sure we can stay out a little while longer, though."

"I certainly hope so. After that I'll need some time before I can walk again!" He chuckled and held me tighter. We both fell silent, watching the stars. "I wish I could have given you a normal life," Anders said after a moment.

"I don't need a normal life," I replied. "I have everything I could want."

"I figured that's what you would say," he replied, taking one of my hands in his. Bringing it to his lips he gently kissed my palm. "But still, I sometimes wish we weren't Wardens or mages or anything special. Just Anders and Maggie, living in some little cottage on the edge of town. Is that crazy?"

"No," I said. "I've thought the same thing before. How could I not?" I sighed. "All things considered, though, I'm awfully glad we _are_ Wardens, since we could never really be together otherwise. Not in the Circle. Or we'd be on the run."

"True," he agreed. "I don't know why I'm being so morose. It's a beautiful night, I'm lying under the stars with my wife, I shouldn't be thinking about how we'll never actually get _old_, much less get old _together._ But… here I am."

"That I do hate," I agreed. "And part of me hates myself for cursing you to this, too." He started to protest and I shrugged him off. "I _know_ it's irrational. That's why I'm not always kicking myself for it or anything. But, it is how it is." I rested my head on his chest, fingers tracing out the defined muscles. "At the very least I'm comforted knowing I won't have to live without you." During the blight I delivered death notices for spare cash once. I was horrified to see most of the widows weren't much older than me. I couldn't imagine losing the person you planned to spend your life with so young, when you had so many years without them still ahead of you. Although a small consolation, I knew even if one of us fell in battle the other wouldn't have to go on for many more years before the Calling took them as well. "And there's this," I added, holding my left hand up. The stones in my ring sparkled in the moonlight. "If we weren't big famous Warden heroes we certainly wouldn't have that."

He chuckled at that. "_You're_ the big famous hero, my dear. It's your statue we're going to see, after all."

I snorted. "And there's one of you in the main square of Amaranthine. If I'm stuck being a hero so are you."

"Ugh," he said, sitting up. "I preferred when I was just the one who made the hero scream his name at night."

I chuckled at that, starting to get dressed again. "Well, you still are. Now I get to be, too, though."

"Hey, you're right," he agreed, grinning as he finished the buttons on his robe. "I can't find the cord for my hair."

I glanced around, it was far too dark to find a single leather string on the ground. "I have one in my pack, you can use it." He nodded and folded the blanket. We kissed one last time, nearly ending up lying on the forest floor again, before we reluctantly parted.

Anders took my hand in his as we walked back to camp. I couldn't resist reaching up to ruffle his hair on the way. I very rarely saw it loose. The brief sadness of our conversation behind us, I'm sure my grin mirrored his own. "Took you long enough," Sigrun laughed as we walked back into the clearing. "It's almost your watch!"

Anders shook his head. "If I had my way it would have taken longer, but we didn't want to miss our watch," he countered. Glancing at Nathaniel he added "and the two of us are having one of those man to man chats very soon!"

Nathaniel raised his eyebrows. "No," he said. "No, I don't think we'll be doing that. _Ever_."

"You'll thank me for it," Anders said, settling by the fire. "So will she." I giggled as Nathaniel shook his head as he got up, entering his tent without saying another word. Sigrun laughed and shrugged before following him.

I was exhausted when we reached Denerim. Sneaking off for first watch shift before taking second watch shift didn't leave much time for sleep. Not that I could really complain. Denerim was, as usual, a bustle of activity. After we dropped our bags off at the palace, where we would be staying as official guests, I went over to the Warden compound. It was, by now, completely full. Caitlin seemed nervous when I arrived. She dragged me through half the compound, pointing out one thing or another, all while telling me about sightings near the city they'd investigated or recruits she had waiting to leave with us.

"Caitlin," I finally said, interrupting her nonstop torrent of information, "this isn't an _inspection_. I just came by to say hello!"

"Oh," she said, sounding relieved. "Sorry. I was… a bit nervous, I guess."

I laughed. "Have we _met?_ Calm down. You're doing great. The king and queen both think the world of you. Just get everyone to the ceremony tomorrow looking clean and shiny and I'll be thrilled."

She sighed, obviously relieved. "So what was that you brought?" she asked. I had left a couple large cloth-wrapped packages by the door.

"Go take a look," I said. We went back into the main hall where she unwrapped the first unwieldy item.

"The Garahel painting!" she gasped. I figured she would like that, I remembered her mentioning he was her childhood hero.

"Well, a copy," I said. "I had a few of our better paintings copied, figured everyone would like some artwork beyond the stuffy portraits of old commanders."

Caitlin laughed. "Speaking of… aren't we supposed to have a copy of yours, too? I couldn't help but notice the spot for the current commander is occupied by a blank wall."

I groaned. "Yeah, it's in there. Thank Nathaniel, I'd personally stick it in a closet somewhere if I had a choice." She just shook her head, laughing, and promised not to let anyone talk to it.

The next morning Anders and I, in unspoken agreement, both dressed in our Warden robes. "What's the plan?" he asked me.

"No idea, really," I admitted. "As far as I know I just have to smile and wave."

"Not bad," he said. "No speeches, at least."

Once outside I caught a glimpse of Leliana and Zevran laughing together, and Wynne talking with Oghren and his family, but didn't have a chance to say anything to any of them before a servant hustled us into our seats in a tiny two-person carriage. We waved to the people who lined the streets as it passed through the city before being hustled once more, this time into a roped off area full of various nobles and dignitaries.

"Look at all these people," I said, feeling slightly intimidated by every noble in Ferelden, and some who looked to be from _outside_ Ferelden as well. To my surprise I saw Greagoir and Irving talking to each other. Both turned and waved to us, smiling, when they realized we had arrived.

"That's weird," Anders said, gesturing. "Senior Enchanter Deirdre is here. I didn't even think she was still alive!" She had been in the running for being the oldest mage in Ferelden even when I was still an apprentice. By now she would easily be ninety.

"That is odd," I said. "I like her, she taught my very first primal class, before she retired."

"Maybe," he said, walking over to her.

"A visit from the woman of the hour!" she joked when we arrived at her side. "I must say, after the blight I quite enjoyed telling people _I _was the one who taught you how to shoot a lightning bolt! And Anders, I see your charm finally paid off. Married to the Hero of Ferelden? Not too bad." She actually pinched his cheek after saying that. I covered my mouth, hiding my grin at his expression of surprise.

"How are you?" I asked, hoping she would tell us why she was there. I was being nosey but, well, that wasn't anything new. And people had to expect bad manners from me at this point. It wasn't as though they invited her because she had been my teacher. None of the others were there, save Irving.

"Old," she said with a chuckle. "And getting older. I see you're still rabid gossip hounds, though. I suppose some things never change. Wondering why I'm here, right?" We must have both looked shocked since she laughed again. "Oh, come now, you always have been, the both of you. Two of a kind. I once mentioned wanting to introduce the two of you, thinking if you had each other to occupy your time it would spare the rest of us from your madness. Irving threatened to push me from the Harrowing Chamber window if I did."

"And he congratulated us!" Anders said, shocked.

"Of course he did," she replied. "You're the Grey Warden's problem now, not the Circle's. We can all be very happy for you since we don't have to _live_ with you."

"We're not _that_ bad," I said.

"Margaret, your neck is _covered_ in bite marks. I wasn't _born_ old and I've known you since you were still afraid of the dark. Don't bother trying to lie to me, it won't work." Anders cursed under his breath and put a hand to my neck, quickly healing it. She shook her head, looking more amused than disappointed. "And speaking of my youth, I'm actually here because my daughter invited me."

I raised my brows. "I didn't know you had a daughter." If the father was a normal person he could have kept the child, so it wasn't beyond possibility. Although who her daughter _was_ to be inviting people made me curious.

"Of course you didn't," she said. "She's easily twice your age and I haven't actually seen her myself since just after her birth. Until recently, at least." I'm sure we both looked curious. "Ah yes, like I thought, _gossip hounds_." She actually wagged a finger at us.

"How did you find her?" I asked, too amazed she had actually managed such a thing to worry about being rude.

"_She_ found _me_," the old mage said. "She was raised by the Chantry from birth and, from what I know, a young man with more good intentions than common sense recently pointed out that her mother was probably a mage." I sucked in a breath, a clearer picture forming. "She looked through the records and saw I was the only mage to have a child the year she was born. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together." Anders glanced at me, probably thinking the same thing I was. "Of course, I had my doubts when I got her letter, but then she came to visit. She's the spitting image of her father, Maker rest his soul. He retired to Val Royeaux many years ago and died there, but I'd still know his eyes anywhere, and she has them. Blue as the summer sky." The Senior Enchanter smiled at that. "So, we're… trying to make up for lost time. In what time I have left."

I nodded, too shocked to form a coherent answer. The Grand Cleric had blue eyes. In fact, I couldn't help but notice as she walked towards us in her formal vestments, that one might actually say they were as blue as the summer sky.

* * *

_A/N: So I thought... chapter 69, that just **needs **some smut. But you know, not the obvious since that would be immature. ;)_

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviews, you are constantly giving me brilliant evil ideas, and keeping me inspired since I know someone is out there reading. :D_


	70. Something about that just warms my heart

_Finally, an update... it's been trapped on my broken laptop which was in the shop until today! Whew!_

* * *

Anders and I exchanged a quick glance as the Grand Cleric approached. She was looking at Senior Enchanter Deirdre and didn't seem to notice us. "Mother, I do wish you would let me get you a chair."

"Oh, I'm old, but as long as my legs still work I'm going to use them," she replied, smiling. "Do you know Margaret and Anders? Two of my former students, it's so nice to know their lessons didn't go to waste." The elderly mage paused, "actually, it would be Warden Commander Margaret and Warden Anders, yes?"

"Yes," I agreed, unable to resist smiling at the expression of shame that flashed across the Grand Cleric's face.

Anders grinned. "Or Bann Margaret and Lord Anders," he said. I couldn't stop myself from groaning. "We… don't really use those, though," he added.

"The Commander and I... have met," the priest said, clearing her throat. Hm… smirking would probably be rude. I guess that meant I was rude.

"We have," I agreed, smiling. "Although I don't believe you've met my _husband_, have you?"

"Your Grace," Anders said, nodding slightly. I noticed that he was also smirking. I couldn't say that surprised me.

"A pleasure," she replied, sounding embarrassed. "But… um, the ceremony is beginning soon. Commander, you will need to take your place."

"Of course," I said. "Excuse us." Both women nodded and Anders took my hand as we walked away.

Well that was unexpected," Anders said as we walked away. "I do love seeing high-ranking religious figures turn red with shame, though. Something about that just warms my heart."

I glanced around and saw Caitlin had the Denerim Wardens in full armor, lined up and at attention. She gave a few of them dirty looks when they waved at us, but relaxed when I waved back. The square had been unblocked. The area we were in, immediately in front of the statue, was still roped off and guarded, but people were starting to pour in and stand as close as they could get. "Looks like there's going to be quite the audience," I said. A platform had been built around the statue, level with the top of the high base. Alistair and Elissa were already there.

"Good," Anders laughed. Before I could climb the steps to the platform he grabbed me and bent me backwards before giving me a deep kiss. "Hey, if they're going to watch we might as well give them a show," he whispered as I stood up straight after.

"You're going to get us in trouble," I laughed.

"What? A man can't kiss his wife?"

"You're also groping my backside," I pointed out.

"In front of the whole of Ferelden nobility and the Grand Cleric, yes," Anders pointed out. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't stop myself. It was... _there_ and _round_ and _not_ being groped. I had to rectify the situation." He let me go and laughed.

I shook my head, giggling to myself as I climbed the stairs. "Was that _at all_ necessary?" Alistair said when I stood next to him.

"He thought so," I shrugged. I glanced over at Elissa and my jaw dropped. "Woah!"

"I know," she said, smiling.

"You're _huge!_ Are you sure there's just one in there?" I paused and blushed. "Wait… that was a rude thing to say, wasn't it?"

"Not really," she laughed, resting a hand on her stomach. "I say the same thing every time I look in the mirror!"

I looked down and saw Zevran and Leliana walking towards the platform. They both stopped to speak with Anders before joining us. "Can I tell you how _thrilled_ I am that I don't have to say anything," I told Alistair.

"Well, whenever you do we have riots somewhere in the country, so I figured it was for the best."

"Glad someone's realized that," I said.

He shook his head. "I _should_ make you do this. I'm not exactly having to look forward to saying _anything _nice about—"

"I know," I said, cutting him off. "But remember if he hadn't it would have been one of us."

"Well… _you_, specifically," Alistair pointed out. "And believe me, reminding myself that is the only reason I can get through this without spitting."

I shook my head, not wanting to argue. "I wish Sten and Shale could be here," I said.

"I do too," he said. "I tried to invite Sten but… well, not having an actual _name_ makes it difficult. I wrote the Arishok and had to say 'the Sten who was in Ferelden at the time of the blight, fighting with the Grey Wardens.' No response."

"That's a shame," I said. "But I suspect they wouldn't understand. It seems like rewarding people for doing their job wouldn't make sense to them. Even if the job was ending a blight."

"I thought the same thing," Alistair agreed. "Shale is still in Tevinter working with some of their higher-ranked mages. Trying to reverse the golem process."

I nodded. "You know… in ten, twenty years… that could be here. We could become a major center for magical learning."

"We could," he said. "It would certainly be to Ferelden's benefit. Tevinter's so far north, people seeking out talented mages in Orlais or the Free Marshes would come to us instead. Lots of visitors spending their foreign money here." He shrugged. "We've decided to focus on education, so it fits with our overall plan. Not just magical education, either. We're building a university here in Denerim."

"That's wonderful!" I said. Most nations had at least one, we were definitely behind in that regard.

"I think if we look to education the rest will fall in place on its own," Elissa spoke up. "The effects should trickle down to the quality of goods made, the effectiveness and yield of our farmland, the desirability of our exports, everything. Plus, so much of our entertainment is imported. Imagine if we had schools turning out Ferelden authors, Ferelden playwrights, Ferelden musicians and composers… having art of our own instead of relying on Orlais is no small thing."

"It isn't," I agreed. I could see the benefit both in terms of making people feel prouder of their home, and also because of more money for such things staying here instead of going outside the country.

Zevran and Leliana had joined us. Our entire group was to one side of the king and queen who stood in front of the draped statue. I gave each of them a hug and we stood in line, looking out at the crowd. Even Wynne offered me a polite nod.

On the other side of the draped statue I could see a pretty dwarven woman with bright red hair in fine clothes but with a casteless brand, a middle-aged Dalish woman in the robes of a Keeper, and the First Enchanter. While the latter two were obviously acting as ambassadors, the first was a surprise. I wouldn't expect Orzammar to send a casteless ambassador. "That's the mother of the King's heir," Oghren whispered. "Noble hunter, but he raised her to House Aeducan and married her. Guess she won't get the brand removed, wants everyone to know where she came from. Felsi was telling me about it, she heard from her cousin." King Bhelen, for all his negative qualities, actually was a true reformer, in word and deed. I had to admit, I was impressed.

I glanced over at my friends and grinned. "Didn't I tell you all," I said, laughing. "We'd save the world and live to brag about it for years to come."

"That you did," Zevran agreed. "Although in all fairness, I should remind you that we _were_ rather drunk when you made the proclamation."

"Hey, I was still right!" I said.

"You did not invite us to your wedding!" Leliana said.

"I know," I told her. "I'm sorry. I would have but it was kind of a rush thing. We decided just a few hours before it happened. It was just because we thought the only priest in Ferelden who would perform the ceremony was a day or two away from being declared a heretic. Figured best get it done while we had a chance."

"Was she?" Leliana asked.

"Yes," I said. "But not until much later, at the same time I was. The Queen, Chancellor, Anders, and quite a few Templars were, too. All of us were excommunicated and declared heretics. Lucky me, I was also declared a maleficar."

"So what will happen to you?" Zevran asked. "Are the Templars going to hunt you down?"

"I was told to ignore anything that comes from the Chantry outside Ferelden. Calling their bluff, I guess."

He nodded, still looking concerned. "Surprising they would name the Queen but not the King. Not that I wish any such thing upon Alistair…"

"No, I thought the same thing. Our Revered Mother at home had a theory," I said. "She thinks that Alistair was spared because of how popular he is. That naming him would set the people of Ferelden against the Chantry. The Queen was so new, though. They might not have known if she was well liked or not, or they might have blamed her for things we did that they didn't like since it happened so soon after their marriage." I chuckled. "Of course, Elissa had to go and ruin that for them by getting pregnant. Providing Ferelden with the first clear line of succession in years will do _wonders_ for one's popularity."

"It's so wonderful," Leliana said, glancing at them. "Alistair will be a fantastic father."

"He will," I agreed. "Not that most of us have a basis of comparison."

We all laughed at that, even Wynne, stopping only when Eamon climbed to the platform and nodded to Alistair. The king stepped forward, raising his arms for attention. Everyone cheered, but went quiet before long to listen. Alistair talked first about the history of the Grey Wardens, of course leaving out the specifics of how one becomes a Warden. He briefly mentioned past blights, the devastation they caused and the years they raged on. It was smart. Not only was he telling them how old and respected our order was, he was reminding them how lucky we all were, and how much worse it could have been.

Going on, he glossed over "Arland the Tyrant" and his expulsion of the order, managing to avoid mentioning the rebellion against the crown at all. He spent a lot more time focusing more on the restoration by King Maric. Calling him "my father," Alistair presented it as though it was a stroke of genius, perhaps even prophesy, bringing us back just in time.

I was amazed that when he talked about the decimation of the order at Ostagar Alistair managed not to say a word about Loghain. From the way he was flexing his fists behind his back I'd guess that was a difficult thing, though. Smiling brightly, Alistair told the crowd how the two green recruits were given an 'easy' job to keep them out of trouble in the battle, and, because of it they were the only survivors. "Not that I would have said fighting through floor after floor of darkspawn only to find an ogre at the top was easy at the time," he joked.

He talked about our friends first, focusing on how the blight is bigger than any one nation when he mentioned Sten and Shayle, speaking briefly of each of them and how they joined us. I think my jaw dropped when he briefly mentioned Morrigan, speaking of her as the daughter of a healer we met near Ostagar in the Chasind lands. But… her participation _was_ a matter of record, it would be confusing if she wasn't mentioned. Probably best people assume she was a Chasind woman and not the daughter of an ancient and unholy abomination.

When he introduced Zevran, Leliana, and Oghren Alistair went into far greater detail. Leliana's biography was actually fairly close to the truth, simply minstrel turned chantry sister instead of bard. Oghren's was the old "lost his family to darkspawn, talented Orzammar warrior," line. I grinned when Oghren waved to his daughter, who had loudly screamed out "That's my daddy!" after Alistair mentioned his name. Zevran, to my shock, was a close combat specialist who was on holiday in Ferelden when the blight began. Apparently we met when he helped us save a group of travelers from bandits. I tried not to laugh. Zevran didn't even bother trying. I think I even caught the Antivan ambassador in the crowd snickering. He, of course, would recognize Zevran's tattoos for the mark of a Crow. It went without saying that Alistair had to mention how all three had so fallen in love with Ferelden and its people that they made it their home once the blight had ended, earning enormous cheers from the crowd. For Wynne he talked about how she up and abandoned her life, devoting herself to keeping all of us healthy and alive.

I started blushing once he got to me. Introducing me as his "dearest sister," Alistair went on and on about my "natural talent for leadership," and "military genius." I raised an eyebrow, surprised. I wasn't anywhere _near_ a military genius, then or now. I suppose that was the sort of thing people wanted to hear, though. He went on and on, saying all sorts of flattering and exaggerated things about me. By the time he was finished I sounded more like the next Andraste than a professional darkspawn killer.

Alistair even managed to spin Loghain's joining the Wardens as being about me. Barely mentioning his name, he instead focused on how it was yet another example of my "ability to temper justice with forgiveness." I winced hearing that. I wasn't sure how much justice _or _forgiveness there was in actually obliterating the very _soul_ of your enemy after besting them. I suppose that was the only way he could get through mentioning the man without spitting blood, though. He did manage to mention who specifically made the killing blow on the archdemon, though. I was surprised to hear that. I couldn't help but notice Wynne surreptitiously casting a spell only seconds later. Looking over I saw Alistair's hands clasped behind his back, nails digging into his palms deep enough to draw blood.

Elissa noticed this as well and put a hand on his shoulder. That seemed to relax Alistair slightly.

His speech finally over, Alistair presented each of the ambassadors with something demonstrating the gratitude of Ferelden. I couldn't quite see what, it looked to be a plaque of some sort. Each member of our group got a medal with the three-hound seal of the line of Calenhad on it.

Alistair gestured as he and Elissa stepped aside. Four men, who had been standing behind the statue, quickly pulled the cloth back.

I gasped when I saw it. I hadn't seen anything since the preliminary sketches I'd rejected and the changes since had been substantial. Alistair and Loghain were both carved as though they were charging forward, swords and shields in their hands. The sculptor had managed to make both of them look very handsome and very fearsome at the same time. That they were both over ten feet tall didn't hurt, either. He had also managed to make Alistair look about five years older than he was during the blight and Loghain ten years younger. I suppose a bit of creative liberty could be allowed, though. That would also explain the heavy crown resting on Alistair's brow.

I stood between them, also posed as if running, and equally larger than life. Perhaps more than them, since Loghain and Alistair were both very tall men, while I wasn't a particularly tall woman. The difference in our heights in life was much more noticeable than it was on the statue. Everything about it seemed to be a fairly idealized version of me, though. If I wasn't mistaken, the sculptor had even given my stone counterpart a smaller waist proportionally than I'd ever actually possessed. I suppose I didn't get to be fearsome, since I was smiling slightly. To be honest, though, I usually did smile when we ran into battle. The prospect of fewer darkspawn in the world was something to be happy about, after all.

The most amazing part was that they didn't just make sure I was in robes. My staff was drawn, clutched tightly in one hand, with the other raised as though I had been captured midway through casting a spell. I couldn't look more like a mage if they carved me holding a literal sign.

"Wow," I muttered, staring open mouth like a fool. Everyone on the political side of the stage applauded politely. Everyone on our side of the stage hooted and cheered loudly, just as the crowd was doing. Needless to say, even those of us accustomed to polite society far preferred the other sort. Zevran actually put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. After a moment the Grand Cleric stepped forward. We automatically fell silent as she said a prayer, the Andrastians all going down on a knee as she walked across the platform, swinging a censer of incense. I suppose she had changed her mind on dedicating a statue showing someone in mage's robes.

With that, we were done. Three days of travel for what amounted to a couple hours of standing quietly next to Alistair. Stepping down, I saw Oghren was already holding his daughter, his medal clutched in her tiny hands. "You know," Anders said, walking over and putting an arm around my shoulder. "I'm _very_ happy you're not that tall in real life. You wouldn't even _fit_ in our bed. And the logistics of just trying to _kiss_ someone four feet taller than me is mind-boggling."

I laughed. "Let's go look, Alistair said we would want to see the base."

We walked over and peered through the boards forming the platform that was built around it. Anders held his staff up, casting a beam of light. I could make out the Grey Warden oath, and what looked to be a griffon. Something that might have been a date was under that. Anders angled the light higher. "Oh, I see," he said, before smiling.

"I don't," I said, peering into the darkness.

"I think it's just above your line of sight," he said, before grabbing me by the waist with one arm and lifting me slightly off the ground. "Better?" he asked. I looked at the base and grinned. Alistair had made sure it was carved with, or perhaps even had it changed to, my married name. I kissed Anders on the cheek and he set me back on the ground.

"Good," I said. "That's what it should say."

Once back at the palace we watched the assembled nobility and dignitaries attempt to engage the Grey Wardens in conversation. Alistair had made sure everyone stationed in Denerim was invited. It didn't take long to realize most of them were about as accustomed to formal gatherings as I had been five years ago. "_… takes days to get the smell of the bastards out of your hair_," I overheard one say. "_Nah, they die like anything else. Well, they go splat a bit more. Kind of like smashing an overripe melon against a wall!" _said another.

"Ah, some nobles will have nightmares tonight," Anders said. We both laughed. I'd been drinking that bubbly Antivan wine they'd served at the royal wedding, it was going straight to my head. _Everything_ seemed amusing.

"Question for you," Alistair said from my other side. "Will you be free in the early spring? Wintersend, specifically."

"As far as I know," I said. "I'm planning to go south and recruit among the Dalish and get our southern outpost set up, but I don't have any set time for that. I can make sure we're done by then, or leave after. Why?"

"Well…" he said, dropping his voice. "The dedication in the Chantry is always on the first Annum after birth," he said. "And we wanted you to stand for it."

"I'd love to," I said, amazed he asked me. "But… um, Alistair… I was _excommunicated_. And worse. Besides, wouldn't Elissa want her brother there?" Only one person besides the parents was needed at a dedication, even I knew that much. Mostly from Jowan telling me long after the fact that he was worried I'd be offended he didn't ask me for his daughter since Nora's sister stood.

He shrugged. "I told the Grand Cleric that- Elissa was, too, you know. She said as long as the Revered Mother of your local Chantry confirms you're a member in good standing that's fine."

"Well…" I laughed. "The Revered Mother of my local Chantry has _also_ been excommunicated."

"She knows," Alistair said. "Look, we're kind of… ignoring Val Royeaux for now. We're not openly speaking against them, but we're not paying attention to what they say to us. It's a stalemate so far, since they don't want to declare war on Ferelden any more than we want to declare it on them. Although I think the Grand Cleric is really warming to the idea of becoming the Ferelden Divine." I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Besides, Fergus will already be there. We need two people. So… will you?"

It didn't take me more than three seconds to decide. Jumping up, I tossed my arms around his neck. "Of course I will!"

"Good," he said, hugging me back. "There's no one I'd rather ask."

I suddenly realized what he said. "Wait… did you just say you need _two_ people?" He grinned and I put my hands over my mouth, squealing. "You're _kidding!_"

"Nope," he said. "Anders' potion was a bit more successful than we expected. Wynne just told us."

"You _dog_," I laughed, hitting his shoulder. "Ha! So I was right, there is more than one in there!"

"I _told_ you that might happen," Anders said.

Leliana had just walked over. "No!" she gasped, a huge smile on her face. "How wonderful! Boys, girls, or one of each?"

"We don't know yet," Elissa said.

"I bet I could tell you," Anders said. She stood up and walked over to him. He laughed, rubbing his hands together. Holding both over her stomach, a faint white glow began to emanate from them. I leaned back, enjoying a chance to watch Anders work that didn't involve someone being injured. He had a look of intense concentration on his face. "Oh!" he said, a moment later, the glow fading. "Want to know?"

"Yes!" Elissa said. Alistair stood up and walked over, putting his arm on his wife's shoulders.

"Boys," Anders said. "Identical, if I'm not mistaken."

Alistair actually gave a whoop of joy before picking Elissa up and spinning her around. Realizing what he was doing he quickly set the very pregnant queen down, asking her if she was all right seven or eight times. "I'm fine," she insisted, laughing. "We'll need to pick another boy's name, though."

"Why?" Alistair said, looking honestly confused.

"Darling, we're not naming _both_ of them Duncan!" she said, sounding amused.

Alistair rolled his eyes, chuckling. "I _know_ that. When we found out it was twins I just assumed we would name one Duncan and the other Bryce, after your father, if they were both boys."

Really, for someone raised in a monastery, Alistair could be _very_ good with women at times, usually without even realizing it. Elissa positively _melted_ when he said that. Anders and I politely looked away when she threw her arms around him.

"He's _very_ good at the whole sweet and charming thing," Anders whispered.

"I don't even think he realizes he does it," I replied. "Kind of like how you don't realize how dirty you make the most innocent things sound. Except the complete opposite."

"No," Anders said. "I am _fully_ aware of exactly how dirty I make things sound. Exactly dirty enough to get your attention." I giggled at that and he kissed the palm of my hand.

"I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it for myself," someone said. I looked up and saw Wynne, holding a glass of the same wine I'd been enjoying, standing in front of us. From the flush on her cheeks I suspected it was having just as much of an effect on her. To my surprise, she was actually smiling. "I didn't think I'd ever see _either_ of you settled down. I never would have imagined I would live to see _both_ of you married and respectable… and certainly not to each other!"

"Respectable?" Alistair interrupted, laughing. "Did you see them before? He grabbed her… hind-quarters… right in front of everyone!"

"Hind-quarters?" I said, raising my eyebrow. "Am I a _horse_?" Alistair laughed, blushing slightly. "And we're perfectly respectable. Go to Chantry and everything."

"Really?" Wynne said, looking shocked.

"Of course," Anders replied. "But… well, our Revered Mother _was_ excommunicated not long ago, so I'm not sure if that counts."

"She's very good, though. And since we were both excommunicated, too, it wouldn't be fair of us to hold that against her."

Wynne actually chuckled at that. "We may be seeing more of each other," she said. I raised my eyebrows. "I'm going to be First Enchanter of the Amaranthine school."

"Really!" I said, honestly surprised. Wynne had turned down the First Enchanter position more than once, after all. "What do you think of the building?"

"Honestly?" she said.

"From you I don't think I could expect anything else," I replied.

The mage nodded. "Well, I'm not _thrilled_ to be tied down with a position like that. But, they need more people with all the schools opening. Apparently a large estate in South Reach has also been donated by the Arl, and Bann Teagan has donated an estate in Rainsefaire." She paused, looking thoughtful. "And the building itself... I... I'm astonished. I can't believe you would make such an elaborate donation to the Circle, given your... opinions."

"It wasn't from _me_," I stressed. "I told Greagoir that. I'm actually all but a pauper, when it comes down to it. The building belonged to the Grey Wardens, _that's_ who the donation was from."

"And you're saying it wasn't your idea?" Wynne replied.

"Well, it _was_, but my lieutenant agreed." I shrugged. "I don't hate the _people_ of the Circle," I told her. "I never have. I won't go back there because, well, I enjoy being free of the Chantry and the Templars far too much, and my work as a Grey Warden is far too important. But... if I can make things better? Make it so the next generation has it easier than we did? Why not?" I shook my head. "And, to be far more pragmatic, fewer restrictions on mages will make it easier for the Grey Wardens to _get_ mages. Besides, why should Tevinter get all the glory when it comes to research? That could just as easily be us. They're no _smarter_ than we are, they've just got a better educational system."

She glanced around and pulled over an empty chair. "_That's_ why I wanted you to go back," Wynne said. "Irving and I are too old. Set in our ways. Young people will need to change the Circle."

"You know," Anders interjected, "I think it's better if change _doesn't_ come from within the Circle. We can suggest things without worrying about retaliation from, say, an angry Templar who would rather see mages dead than free."

I nodded in agreement. Even Wynne looked like she was mulling his words over. "You may actually be correct," she admitted. "Your status as Grey Wardens does protect you from dealing with the Chantry directly." She fell silent, but I could tell from the look on her face that there was more she planned to say.

"Say it," I finally said, offering her a small smile. "I can _see_ there's something you're dying to tell me."

Wynne sighed, pulling her chair closer to us. Over her shoulder I could see Zevran whispering in Leliana's ear while she giggled, batting her lashes at him. Hm... interesting. "Many years ago," she began, "I was involved with another mage. I became pregnant. It was carelessness on both of our parts." I nodded, not sure why she was telling me this right now. I already knew, after all. "Of course," she said, "you know what happens then."

"You could try to find him now," Anders said. "Or her."

She made a face, looking sad. "And say what? Giving birth doesn't make someone a mother, there's so much more to it than that. I'm nothing but a stranger to him now, and that may be for the best. But, that isn't my point." I waited for her to go on. "That... losing him... it was the worst experience of my life. Even now, when I look back..." she closed her eyes, looking perfectly miserable. I still didn't know why Wynne was telling _me_ of all people this, but I felt horrible for her. Not knowing what else to do, I leaned over and rested my hand on hers. She glanced up and gave both of us a weak smile. "You're both so young. With love comes carelessness. I know, I was young once myself. I just... I would hate to see you go through that, to see anyone suffer like I did. A child wouldn't fit into the life of two Grey Wardens any more than it would a Circle mage. And with both of you being mages..." She turned to me. "You know this is why I was... critical of you in the past. I don't think I was quite able to say what my true fear was." A quick incline of her head in the direction of Zevran made the statement more clear.

I sucked in a breath sharply. Wynne and I got off to a _very_ rocky start when she left the tower to join us. I had just started to get past that, deciding I would rather get along than fume over something that happened weeks earlier, when she decided to make my sex life her business. I was _furious_ with her, not just for feeling like she had the right to comment on who I shared my bed with, but also for what she had said about Zevran, while barely knowing him. When she called me irresponsible on top of everything else, all while I was constantly injured, constantly exhausted, and constantly hungry just trying my best to do what I thought Duncan would have wanted of us... it was a knife in the chest. I thought she was ignoring all I had done up until that point, all I was trying to do every single day... simply calling my actions selfish. It was like nothing I did would ever be good enough, people would always find _some_ excuse to find me lacking.

The entire conversation made me feel judged and rejected in a way nothing before or since had. I never forgave her for it.

And now I find out that hadn't even been the real reason she tried to convince me to end things with Zevran.

"You know I never forgave you for what you did say to me," I finally told her.

"I suspected as much," she said. "And I can't say I blame you. I should have told you the truth then, but it isn't a subject I enjoy talking about."

"So... why tell me now?" I said. "I mean, I _am_ glad to know, although it'll take me some time to, you know, figure things out. But why couldn't you talk about it then but you can now?"

"Avoiding the truth worked _so_ well last time," she said drily. Well, fair enough. "And you're a married woman. I at least know both of you well enough to realize you would never have taken that step if this was some... casual fling." Wynne sighed. "I just don't want you to go through what I did. Please, be careful. Don't have a child. Not with both of you being mages, not with both of you being Grey Wardens."

Anders and I exchanged a glance. He cleared his throat. "One healer to another?" She nodded. "You understand how Grey Wardens are... made, right?" Wynne made a sound of agreement. She had, in fact, been the one to prepare the Joining at Ostagar when I became a member of the order. "The corruption makes it... rare for a Grey Warden to have a child. For two? Impossible. We couldn't if we wanted to." He leaned towards her. "I had to provide the king and queen with several different potions just to help them produce an heir."

"That was your work?" she said, sounding shocked. "The queen had me mixing them for her. Very impressive, you used several herb combinations I wouldn't have considered."

He looked surprised, and very proud. "Well, it's easier if you have a knowledge of the Warden side of things," Anders finally said.

"You still don't do false modesty very well," Wynne commented.

"No, I don't suppose I do," he agreed. "Well, what can I say? I'm brilliant."

* * *

_I hate going so long between chapters. I think I would have rewritten this from scratch if I hadn't picked up my laptop from being fixed today! _  
_Sorry to keep everyone waiting so very long! _  
_Thank you so much to all my reviewers! _


	71. Let's run away and be pirates!

"That was... unexpected," I whispered to Anders after Wynne had left.

"Very," he agreed. "And goody, we'll be neighbors."

I shrugged. "Well... if she doesn't _actually_ think I'm a selfish and irresponsible excuse for a Warden maybe I can cope. Although really, just telling me the _truth_ from the beginning would have been nice."

He shrugged. "Who knows with her. I'm sure she's telling the truth now, but I'm also fairly sure _not_ seeing you involved with someone she loathed was a big motivator, too." He glanced over at Zevran. "I know her well enough to realize she would probably give him lectures on morality, and from what little I know him, I suspect he would ignore her or make jokes."

"And you've summed up a year and a half of the bickering I had to listen to," I laughed.

"There you go. For all our differences, Wynne knows I'm not an _killer_ or anything like that." I raised an eyebrow. "Well, all right, but it's not my _defining_ characteristic," Anders added, chuckling. "And darkspawn don't count."

"That's a shame," I said. "They're my very favorite thing to kill."

"And you're _very_ good at it," he added, putting an arm around me. "No, I suspect when she said what she did originally it might have been partially true. I mean, she may have been worried to see you get pregnant. But she probably also questioned your judgment, or perhaps your sanity, for being involved with someone like him. Not... that I can blame her for _that _entirely."

"Don't you start," I warned him. "Zevran's much more than he seems. We wouldn't have lasted, but he's not a bad person. He just has a horrible job- one he was trained for from childhood as a _slave_, I might add."

"And now he's in charge of their Ferelden branch, continuing the cycle?" Anders said, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "No, he won't do that," I said. "His Crows are adults only, people who are willing. He would never torture children or deal in slavery." I glanced over to where he and Leliana were still talking. I had to chuckle slightly, from where I was it looked like she had turned her bard charm to high, and he was actually _blushing_, of all things. Or red faced from drink, also a possibility. "We talked about it not long ago, I was curious about how much leeway he had."

Anders sighed, holding me closer to him. "I should have assumed as much. I don't know him, but I know you well enough to see you wouldn't involve yourself with someone completely heartless."

"I don't like what he does," I said. "Don't get me wrong. But he is as ethical as someone can be in that situiation. He said he doesn't even like people who are needlessly cruel. Zevran's always been very big on saying everyone deserves a quick and clean death, even during the blight. That's why he's such a fan of poisons. Faster."

"Well, I would think any sane person would say the same," Anders said. "Drawing out a death just seems... well, reckless, even beyond the cruelty. Even with darkspawn, and they _deserve_ cruelty, it's better to kill them fast so they can't recover and come at you. Or bring more to them. For people... I'd hate to meet the person that could draw out killing someone."

I was silent. Telling Anders he _had _met someone like that, and was in fact sitting next to them, wasn't something I really felt like doing.

He sighed. "I hate when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Go silent. I know it always means there's something horrifying you're avoiding telling me." I looked over at him and he shrugged. "Just let it out. You'll be on edge until you do, and I'll be expecting the worst. Was it Nathaniel's father?"

"No!" I said. "I told Nathaniel he died in a fair fight. You were _there_. I didn't lie." I sighed. "It was a mage. A Tevinter slaver, to be specific. Blood mage. He was taking people from the Denerim alienage. Using them for his _spells_. He actually offered to do something to make me stronger- forever, from their lives if I let him go."

"You'd never agree to that," Anders said quickly.

"Maker's breath, of course not. I'm no monster! But... I was so _angry_. He was so cocky, and so unconcerned with the lives he took. They didn't matter, they were just a source of power to him. Like walking, talking, feeling bottles of lyrium! All I could think was that all my life I've been hated and suspected, and it was just because mages like him ruin it for all of us. He was _every _bad thing people believed about mages." I sighed. "I could have killed him a dozen times over. Two dozen, maybe. Instead I used small spells. Lightning at his limbs, freezing non-vital areas. I wanted to make him suffer since right then he had become the reason I'd suffered. It felt like revenge." I looked over at Anders, his face was actually fairly blank. "I'm not proud of it, but I can't even say I wouldn't do it again. Zevran's the only one who realized what I was doing. He noticed, gave me a dirty look, and stabbed the mage in the back, ending it. That night I got his lecture about everyone deserving a clean death."

Anders wrapped his other arm around me, his fingers folded together over my shoulder. "I understand," he said after a moment. "I don't know what I would have done in your place. But I can't pretend not to understand. You know I can't." He released one arm and brushed my hair back before holding onto me again. "That's why I hate blood magic, you know. I _know_ you're a good person. Obviously I do. I know Jowan's a good person, and Aidan, and Moira. I'd trust any of them with my life. And you? You _are_ my life. But blood magic... you may be the only four _good people_ using it in the world. Most are more like that slaver you met. And they're the reason we all suffer."

"You should have explained it like that years ago," I said. "That I can understand."

"Probably," he agreed. "I didn't want you to think I was lumping you in with people like that. When I say something about maleficar, in my mind that doesn't even _include _you. I _know_ you're not like that, and I know you never will be. If I wasn't sure of that I wouldn't have committed to spending the rest of my life with you, you have to know that. I just hate blood magic, and I hate that you use it because I don't want anything connecting you to monsters like that slaver. He _is_ the reason we suffer, and almost every blood mage is just like him." He sighed. "Angry?"

"No," I said. "I wish you were this honest ages ago. I can understand that. I don't _agree_ with all of it, but you have a valid point." I smiled at him. "And it is good to know you're not worried I'll slowly turn into some sort of life-draining soulless monster at some point in the future."

"Not anymore," he said, laughing when I made a face at him. "Oh, come on, you know I'm teasing." I giggled, shifting my chair closer to his so I could lean into him. "Can we leave yet?" he whispered.

"No," I sighed. "I think someone would notice if I skipped out of the ending-the-blight anniversary party early." That didn't stop Anders from trying to entice me into doing just that by whispering several things we could be doing instead into my ear. "You're horrible," I giggled, realizing I was probably turning slightly red.

"I am not," he said. "I'm actually very good. Very _very _good, if the smile on your face every morning is any indication."

"Fine, fine," I said. "But we can't leave."

"All right," he sighed. "Did I hear Alistair ask you to stand for the baby's dedication in the Chantry?"

"Well, one of them," I said.

He laughed. "He's letting you hold one of the potential future kings while the Grand Cleric dumps water on it?"

"Yes, why?"

"I don't know, you're kind of... terrified of children, for one thing. And there is the m-word, as we were just discussing. Does he know?"

I gave Anders a dirty look. "Yes, he knows. He's known almost since the beginning. And despite training to be a _Templar_ for years, he's given me less grief about it than _you_."

"Hey, I was only asking," Anders said. I made a face. Alistair and Elissa were talking to Anora, Wynne was chatting with Oghren and his family, and Zevran and Leliana were both suddenly and conspicuously absent. "Really. I just figured _because_ he was training to be a Templar it might be a big deal for him. I didn't think he knew. Honestly, that's all. I swear."

Casting Anders an incredulous glance I shook my head. "He's not an idiot. Someone cuts their arm open in battle and you tend to notice."

"I didn't know if you avoided using it around him," Anders said. "I've wondered for years but never had the nerve to ask." I relaxed against him again. "Why did you used to cut your arm?" he asked, sounding even more curious. "Or, why did you switch?"

"Arm is easier to hide or explain," I said. "Scars on arms are more common. Palm or wrist is easier and better for the spells but harder to explain after the fact if I can't get someone to heal it."

"Makes sense," Anders said after a moment. Glancing over he nodded towards the royal couple and Anora. "Surprised no one tried to get Alistair to marry her," he said.

"I did," I admitted. "She nearly went mad after two days." Anders glanced over at me, surprised. "What? I thought it would be a good compromise. She said he was immature and insufferable. When I pointed out it was too late for her to complain and he would be king with or without her, she said she would just go back to Gwaren until he managed to get lost and fall off the battlements and the Landsmeet called her back to fix things."

"You're _kidding_," Anders said. I shook my head.

"Nope. I told her to deal with it at least until we could deal with the blight since I knew Alistair would have Loghain's head in a second, and with him as king that left just two Wardens in Ferelden. No way would I let him fight if he was going to end up king."

"You told her to deal with it so her father would live long enough to die in the battle with the archdemon?"

"No!" I snapped. "I didn't even _know_ that part yet. I told her to deal with it if she wanted him to live period. She did until he died, and then she said so long, Alistair."

"Hm," he finally said. "You'd think, if something happened to Alistair and he had no heir, Fergus Cousland would be first in line for the throne, not her."

"You'd think that, yes," I agreed. "As would I. As would _everyone_ in Ferelden. Except Anora." I chuckled. "Want to bet she's trying to arrange a marriage between her daughter and one of their not-yet-born sons?"

"Not a bet I'll take," Anders said. "I'm not _nearly _that drunk!" He smiled. "She was standing near me during the ceremony. I got to stand with the families. Which was basically Anora and Felsi, but I suppose we're not a very domestic bunch."

"How did she react?" I asked, curious.

Anders glanced over at me and shook his head. "When they uncovered the statue she said "oh, Daddy" and burst into tears. I felt horrible for her." I winced, feeling guilty all over again. As I pretty much always did whenever the subject of Loghain's death came up. "She doesn't blame you, you know," he said, probably feeling me tense. "She actually seems to think the world of you, or that was the impression I got at least." I gave him a dubious look. "Well, I know she wouldn't say otherwise to _me_, but I overheard her talking to other people, telling them about the statue at the Keep. Anyways," he went on, "she was glad you gave him a chance to redeem himself and die with honor. She also offered us her congratulations. And not-so-subtly asked if you were expecting."

"Morbid curiosity?" I asked. "Not playing matchmaker, right?" I was actually surprised we didn't get more of that given how sudden our wedding was.

"I'm sure of it," he said, polishing off a drink and pouring another. "Do you think a noble in Ferelden would arrange a marriage to _anyone_ who was the child of even one known mage?" I laughed at the very idea. "Hmmm... speaking of the child of a mage," Anders whispered, nodding his head. The Grand Cleric was walking towards us.

We both stood up quickly. "Please sit," she said, before adding "may I?" while indicating the chair Wynne had been using.

"Of course," I told her, keeping my expression carefully neutral and glad I wasn't _too _drunk. I'd really rather have my fingers broken, one by one, than have a drink with her. But I couldn't very well say that in the middle of the most important people in Ferelden.

I suppose I didn't do a very good job of hiding how I actually felt. "I deserve that," she said, observing us. A quick glance over at Anders revealed he was doing an even worse job at looking normal than me. But, he was also drunker than me. "I owe you an apology," she admitted. "Both of you. Using your personal life as a political ploy... that was uncalled for. The Chantry is above that, and I should have been as well." She blushed slightly. "Anyways. That was what I wanted to say."

"Thank you," Anders said. "So... your mother?" Oh Maker, he _was_ drunk. I gave him a shocked glance. "What?" he said to me. "You know you're dying to ask, too. I can read you like a book." All right, that was _true,_ but it didn't mean I was _going_ to ask.

"You don't have to tell us anything," I said.

"Oh, why not," she said, voice dripping with sarcasim. "It's all half the people in this room are discussing, after all." After a pause she added "the other half are split between discussing the Queen's pregnancy and speculating on reasons for your hasty marriage, by the way."

I shrugged. "They _love_ gossiping about me. That's nothing new."

She gave me a shocked glance. "And you don't _care?" _

Anders and I both snorted. "Why bother?" I said. "I mean, I used to, sure. But I'm a Grey Warden, and a mage, both of those alone make people curious and nervous. And I'm a commoner, which to some of these people might as well mean I was born from a dirt heap and spend my off hours drooling on myself due to my inferior bloodline." She looked at me in shock. "Welcome to the ranks of the nobility. Isn't it just _grand_."

"You get used to it," Anders added. "Eventually."

"The... politics of this are all new to me," she said. "I didn't realize inviting Deirdre... my, um, mother would be such a scandal." I held my tongue. But really, was she that naive? Then again, Alistair wasn't much better when we met, and she was raised by the same people. "Well, I see that _now_. I just... thought she might enjoy seeing the statue. She speaks highly of both of you."

"She's always been very nice," I said. "When I was very little she used to braid my hair for me so I wouldn't set it on fire." The Grand Cleric looked sad at that and I mentally kicked myself. Of course, in a fair world Deirdre would have been braiding her hair, like any mother. But then, in a fair world I wouldn't have been taken from my parents, either.

"She is... the first mage I've ever really spoken to. At length, I mean. I never served in the Circle." I wondered vaguely if that was intentional on someone's part, if they kept records of who was related to who so they would be kept apart. I wouldn't be shocked. "I was surprised. She seems like any other old woman."

"Well what else would she seem like?" Anders said, clearly getting drunker by the second. I took his glass away and he made a face at me. "We're people like everyone else, you know." _Oh Maker_, I thought, casting a quick spell on him hoping he would sober enough to stop talking.

"You've had too much to drink," I said quickly.

"Probably," he agreed. "Doesn't make it any less true, though." Well, that plan failed.

She gave him a dirty look. "The Chantry's teachings _do _exist for a reason," the priest said firmly. "I cannot believe everything I've ever held true is wrong just because..." She trailed off, looking angry.

"Just because if mages are evil that would make you the child of evil?" Anders said. "Because she seems like any other old woman and you know that's only because she is just a normal old woman? Because she never wanted to give you up and deep down you wish she hadn't been forced to?" He raised an eyebrow seeing the look of confirmation on her face. "And there it is."

People had actually started to edge closer when she raised her voice and were now listening to us. I briefly wondered if anyone would notice me hiding under the table. The idea was quickly rejected, who knows what the gossipers would say I was doing down there. Probably because of the last time I was caught under a table... well, Anders just can't keep a straight face to save his life, so that was his fault.

But that didn't matter now. What mattered now was that he was in the middle of a loud heavily-observed argument with the Grand Cleric.

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped. "That we've all been lied to? No, that is not true. I can't accept that."

"But it's not wrong, either," he pushed. "They say magic is evil, but it's of the Maker, the same as everything else."

"This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion," she said finally.

"You're right," Anders agreed. "It probably isn't." He smiled at her. "The apology is appreciated. And please give your mother my regards. Let her know I still use the mnemonic she taught me when I'm training our new mages." And with that he managed to let anyone listening know that the Grand Cleric's mother was a mage, if they didn't already. She gave us a thin-lipped smile and walked off, clearly mad.

"What was that?" I said to him, shocked. "She _apologized_!"

He laughed at me. "You always have so much fun arguing with people. I thought I'd give it a try. It is a bit exhilarating." Anders dropped his voice then. "Besides, what was it you say about Isolde? You can't stand the 'all mages are evil except _my_ mage' types? Well, she was turning into one. Maybe now she'll look at everyone and not just her own personal life."

I shook my head. "Half the room was listening to that. I usually don't argue quite so... publicly."

He shrugged. "Did you see who, though? The only people that looked upset are the nobles who probably don't know the way around their own castles and can't dress themselves without assistance. Everyone whose opinion might actually matter to either of us seemed to think it was funny."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "You know, since neither of us can put on armor without help you probably shouldn't use that example."

He shrugged. "I'm perfectly capable of putting on my own armor. I just _like_ when you help. You hum doing up the buckles, and bite your lip while you're concentrating. It's cute."

"I do?"

"You do," he repeated. "And I like helping with _your_ armor, for that matter. That way I'm sure it's buckled properly and you're safe." All right, I was probably as big a sucker for sweet as Elissa.

"Really?" I said, grinning like an idiot.

"Of course," he said. I couldn't stop myself from squealing and launching myself at him.

"Maker's breath," Alistair said from behind us. With a sigh we pulled our lips apart from one another. "The two of you-"

"Offered to give you advice so you could be just as happy," Anders finished for him, laughing.

"Just because I don't grope my wife in public doesn't mean we're unhappy," the king said, face ruddy from drink. "You ever notice _no one_ does that sort of thing but you? You're not the only happy people in the world."

"Sure we are," Anders laughed, turning to look at the king. "So you're really letting _her_ hold one of the future potential heirs to the throne of Ferelden?"

"Who else would I ask?" Alistair said, squeezing my shoulder.

Anders chuckled. "Someone who doesn't look like they want to scream and run away whenever they're handed a baby?"

"I'll do fine," I said. "I haven't dropped anyone's kid yet and people keep shoving them at me."

"Well that's... reassuring," Alistair said shaking his head.

Anders laughed and kissed me on the cheek, saying "I'm only teasing," before he turned back to the king. His eyes went wide. "W_hat_ is that? Is that...?"

"Yep," Alistair grinned. "A present for two of my favorite mages."

"Oh... wow," I said, taking the glowing blue bottle from him. "You know, I found a bottle of this once. Oghren drank the whole thing before I even realized what it was. I didn't even get a _drop_."

"_Oghren_ drank a bottle of Aqua Magus?" Anders said, sounding horrified. "And he didn't go completely mad?"

"I don't think there's a liquor in Thedas that could kill Oghren," Alistair said. "Even if it is loaded with refined lyrium."

"True," I agreed. "Wow... thank you!" Alistair grinned and walked off.

"I've never had this," Anders said, pouring us two glasses. "Heard of it, of course, but... never thought I'd actually _see_ a bottle."

"I was_ so_ mad at Oghren," I said. "I was all 'it's liquor _specifically _for mages! And you drank it all!' He just burped."

He laughed and we raised our glasses to each other, the glow of the drink turning our hands a pale blue. With a laugh we both took sips.

"Let's... run away," Anders slurred later on. We were now sitting on the floor, hidden behind our table, the bottle clutched in his hand as he leaned back against me. "Let's run away and be _pirates_. I could wear a dashing hat!" He giggled, trying to subtly grope me and failing completely. Well, at the subtle part at least. "You could be my buxom wench!"

"I'm not a wench!"

He laughed. "Well, there was that one time..."

"Oh yeah," I giggled. "We should do that again." Anders did look really good in the pirate hat. I still had no idea where he found it.

"Anything for you," he said, kissing my wrist. "But as I said. We should run away and be pirates. We can live on a boat. And come to shore to kill darkspawn. And return to the high seas before anyone tries to make us come to any _parties_ or _ceremonies_ or anything where we need to dress up."

"I knew a pirate once... " I mused.

He laughed. "Knew... or _knew? _Since it sounds like the second one."

I giggled. "Can't hide anything from you, can I? She was a friend of Zevran's. We bumped into her during the blight."

"Wait..." Anders said. "She? _She_?" He spun around, staring at me closely. "The pirate you _knew _was a _she_? Like, a woman? And the two of you...?"

"Um, yes," I said, not sure why he was staring at me like that. Grabbing the bottle I took another drink.

"Andraste's flaming sword," he muttered. "I... I'm going to just sit here, very quietly, and picture that. And be very happy. For the rest of my life." He made a face then. "Wait... _he_ was there, too, wasn't he?"

"Well, she was _his_ friend," I said by way of explanation. It wasn't a very _good_ explanation, but saying 'it sounded pretty exciting and I'd never done that before' wouldn't help.

Sighing, Anders took a swig from the bottle. "Well, there's a lovely filthy fantasy completely _ruined_."

"Sorry," I said.

"I suppose I can forgive you," he sighed. "So what should we name our pirate ship?"

"Sea Griffon?" I suggested.

"Ugh, that's _horrible_," he said. "That is the_ worst _boat name I've ever heard! I think we should name it... Sea Mage, or Mage of the Oceans, or Mage of the Seas or... something with mage in it. And get one of those carved mermaids for the front that looks like you. Topless."

"You _really _want me to pose for something like that?" I laughed.

"Hm, maybe not."

I could hear someone looking for us. "Has anyone seen Maggie and Anders?" Nathaniel was saying.

"Be _very very _quiet," Anders whispered.

"He's going to make us _work_," I whispered. "Or... talk to people."

Anders nodded, reaching up to the table and feeling around for the cork. He slammed it into the bottle and nodded at a door not far away. "Run for it?"

Crawling further under the table I lifted the edge of the cloth and peeked. No one was looking in our direction. "Let's go for it."

The two of us bolted across to a doorway, quickly opening it and slamming it closed behind us. "Oh!" I gasped, seeing Teagan and Alfstanna attempting to straighten their clothing. "Don't mind us," I giggled. "Just cutting through!"

"You two have fun!" Anders added, grabbing my hand and pulling me after him.

The door had led to the kitchens. Fortunately I still knew the way through the palace and, with only a few wrong turns, found our room. Anders and I looked at each other, laughed, and started yanking our clothes off as fast as we could before diving under the blankets. Someone knocked at our door.

"Just a second!" I shouted. Anders looked at me, rolling lyrium-addled eyes, and stood up, wrapping a blanket around his waist. I sat up in bed, covering myself with the blanket.

"Hey Nate!" Anders said, opening the door.

Nathaniel sighed. "It's barely _nine_ at night. When the Hero of Ferelden disappears from the ending of the blight anniversary celebration people _notice._"

"Yeah..." I said. "So, um about that. Have you ever heard of Aqua Magus?"

"No," he said. "What does that have to do with you leaving early?"

"Alistair gave us a bottle," Anders said. "Tevinter, for 'mage water.' Almost half lyrium."

"Meaning?"

"We are _so_ trashed," I said, laughing. "Seriously. This stuff is amazing. It's a shame they haven't made it for hundreds of years. Alistair must have spent a _fortune_."

"I bet we could duplicate it," Anders said. "Or Oghren could." He laughed. "It's really something. I feel like I'm sort of drunk, and sort of addled, but not quite either. And yet way more than both. Does that make sense?"

"No," Nathaniel said.

"Yes," I said at the same time.

Nathaniel shook his head. "All right, the two of you are done for the evening. That's pretty clear."

"You should be, too," I said.

He looked at me like I was insane. "_One_ of us should stay to represent the order."

"Screw it," I told him. "Go back, grab Sigrun, get out of there, and have some fun. In twenty five years you won't look back and wish you'd spent more time sharing inane small talk with nobles." I made a face. "Every time I go to one of these things all I can think of is how much of my life I've wasted sitting at pointless receptions and banquets and ceremonies. Maker's breath, there isn't even _music_ at this one. Nothing but the sound of stupid mindless pleasantries to listen to."

"You're looking well," Anders said, turning to me with a expression of blank idiocy.

"And yourself," I replied. "How has the weather been in the West this season?"

"Dry, very dry," he replied. "I've heard your nephew was betrothed to the seventh cousin once removed of Bann Boring."

"Yes, yes," I replied. "We're rather pleased. We signed a trade alliance for point-three-percent off fish imports. I bought a new horse."

"I bought a new cow."

"I get your point," Nathaniel said, shaking his head but grinning. "See you in the morning."

"'Night" we both replied. Anders quickly shut and locked the door, slamming a chair under the knob before he jumped into bed.

* * *

_I suppose I was a bit inspired by Talk Like a Pirate Day. _  
_Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! You are all fantastic people and snappy dressers! _


	72. I think I like sailing

I was amazed to realize neither I nor Anders had a hangover when we woke up. We had, however, managed to rip the curtains off the bed. And the canopy. And set fire to the mattress. And created the palace's only _three _poster bed. And broken a chair, table and, most confusingly, bookshelf. None of which I remembered in the _least._

"I can figure out the chair and table," Anders mused, looking around. "But how did we break a bookshelf? Did one of us try to fold the other onto it?"

"I… guess?" I said, rather horrified by the thought.

I had a marginally better idea of how I ended up covered in bite marks, why Anders' back looked like a map of the deep roads done entirely in welts, and we were both bruised in a way that was far more suitable to waking up after fighting an ogre, not spending a night with your spouse.

But we didn't have hangovers!

"Alistair is going to _kill_ us," I said, surveying the damage after Anders had healed both of us, apologizing profusely the entire time until I told him I obviously didn't mind if I didn't stop him when it was happening.

"He _did_ give us the booze," Anders provided helpfully.

"True," I said. "You know we have more than half a bottle left. I was going to suggest saving it for a special occasion but I'm a bit scared now."

"I definitely don't want this to happen to our room at home," he agreed. "Imagine if we got into our weapon collections." I shuddered at the idea. Someone knocked on the door. Opening it a crack I peeked out, seeing Oghren.

Sighing, I opened it the rest of the way. His jaw fell. "By my ancestor's beards, what did you two _do_?" he all but screamed, looking at the chaos.

"I don't _know!" _I said.

He shook his head. "Well, at least neither of you were hurt. How you managed that I don't know, though."

"Healer," was all Anders said, sighing.

Oghren narrowed his eyes and grabbed me by the arm, hauling me into the hallway and slamming the door on Anders. "He hurt you?"

"What?" I said, shocked. "Well… I guess, but not like _that_."

"Then like what?" Oghren asked. "I know they don't tell your kind about this sort of thing in the tower," he said, looking angry, "married or not, he's got no right to raise a hand to you. But a lot of men seem to think the ring means they can."

"Oh Maker," I gasped. "No… no, not _that_. He would _never_ do that, Oghren."

He looked instantly relieved. "I didn't think he would," Oghren admitted. "But if anything bad happened I'd hate myself for not speaking up." He leaned against the wall. "Had a sister once, she married a noble cast fellow. This is years back, before I even _knew_ Branka. Good sort, we all thought he was fantastic. Treated her like a queen." Oghren sighed. "Least, that's what we all thought. She'd come by, say she fell down, bumped into something, got hurt practicing, things like that. Never thought much of it, until he went too far."

"That's awful," I said. "I had no idea."

"It is," he agreed. "Don't much like to talk about it. After I looked back I realized all the things I noticed and ignored. Told myself, next time, don't ignore that."

I couldn't argue with his reasoning. "Thanks for looking out for me," I said, giving Oghren a hug. "Don't worry, though. I'm fine." I dropped my voice. "And he's a _healer_. I'm a combat mage. Do you _really_ think he could do anything to me I wouldn't want him to?"

"You think you'd ever raise a hand to him even if he was?" Oghren countered. He had a point.

"You're right," I admitted. "But no… it wasn't anything like that. We just got a bit… rough."

Oghren considered that for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Can I come out now?" Anders asked through the door, probably listening the whole time.

"Yes," I called.

He opened the door and nervously peeked around the edge. "Oghren knows I wasn't… beating you or anything, right?"

"Yes," I said.

He grinned, relieved. "Well all right then, good." Anders turned to look at Oghren. "You really think I would, though? _Me_? Even putting the fact that she could _kill me_ aside…"

"No," Oghren admitted. "But I've been wrong before."

"Fair enough," Anders said.

"My sister used to look a bit like you, actually," Oghren said. "Me and her, we both got our pop's green eyes, but she got our mother's black hair."

"She doesn't look like her anymore?" Anders asked.

"No," Oghren said, sounding sad. "Like I said. Been wrong before. She was returned to the stone… oh, ten years back." I put my hand on his shoulder, he reached up and patted it with his own.

"I'd be offended, but…" Anders shrugged. "I'd probably wonder the same thing if I was you." Anders grinned then. "And by the way, she's the lunatic. I used to be nice and normal before her."

"Somehow… I doubt that," I said.

"Well," he said, "I _acted_ normal, at least."

"Always figured the boss had a wild streak. Only way to explain that damn elf," Oghren laughed. I smiled, glad Anders realized the best way to cheer him up was to change the subject to something wildly inappropriate. "So are you ready to go? Everyone else is packed and waiting."

"Yeah," I said. "I'll just say goodbye to Alistair. And hand him a pile of gold for... all this."

"He's just down the hall, sitting in his study clutching his head."

Anders laughed. "Well, at least I can help with _that_."

We walked over to Alistair's study, carrying our packs. Anders healed his hangover and I opened my purse, passing him a substantial quantity of gold. "What's this?" he said.

"Um," I blushed. "You'll understand when you see our room. I'm sorry. We don't know what happened."

"Literally," Anders said. "I can't remember a thing after climbing into bed last night."

"Right," Alistair said. "I have to see this. You handed me enough gold to refurnish the whole room."

"I know," I sighed.

Laughing, he jumped up, running down the hall. "Andraste's sword!" Alistair yelled. "What _happened_?"

"We don't know!" I repeated. "It's that damned mage booze. It broke us!"

He just shook his head. "You may want to, you know, not drink the rest."

"Or really _really_ limit the quantity," I said. He only shook his head at that.

Fortunately our trip home was uneventful, although every time we made camp I noticed Anders staring at the bottle of Aqua Magus as though it would jump up and bite him.

Once back in Amaranthine I ran around like a maniac making sure everyone would be ready for our trip to Jader. Oghren's archdemon-bone plate went back to Wade for some minor repairs and a thorough polishing, as did my archdemon-wing leathers. I made sure everyone else had decent robes and armor to wear.

"Calm down, boss," Tobias said as I examined his spare leathers to see if they would be nice enough to take with us. "Everyone's going to be looking at you and Oghren, you're the ones who killed the archdemon. I don't think anyone will even notice if the rest of us are naked."

"You _know_ how everyone else thinks of Ferelden," I said. "I don't want us looking like a bunch of crazed barbarians."

"But... we are!" Tobias laughed.

"Yes, but we can _look_ decent and hide it for a few days!"

We decided to leave a few days early. Getting passage on a boat wouldn't be difficult. Amaranthine was one of the major ports of Ferelden, after all, and there were ships leaving regularly for Orlais and the Free Marshes. But, the Wardens had been invited to the new mage academy for the opening. If we left early we could bundle it into a single trip, and just send the rest of our group back home after while we continued on.

Anders and I had been asked to speak, to my surprise. He would be giving a lecture on healing in combat situations, I would be talking about the importance mages played in combat, and then the two of us would run a brief demonstration and class on the arcane warrior spells.

My speech wasn't so much of a lecture as it was a series of stories, since I wasn't much of a lecturer. I could be a decent storyteller when given the chance, though, and I figured better to do something I wouldn't utterly mangle.

Almost all of our mages, with the exception of Jowan and a few lifelong apostates who wanted nothing to do with the Circle in any form, even a less restrictive one, went to the opening. Hopping down from the wagon I directed the driver to bring our trunks to the harbor.

"Nervous?" Anders asked as I chewed on my bottom lip, watching him drive off.

"What gave you that idea?" I asked, laughing. "Yeah. I've never been outside Ferelden. I've only been on a couple boats, and only in Lake Calenhad, never the ocean."

"It'll be fun," he said. "Besides, they're Wardens, not courtiers. All the Wardens we've met from other countries weren't any different from us."

"True," I agreed. "Leliana said we should make sure to find a bakery when we're there. They make these little colorful cookies in Orlais, like two of them glued together with a filling. She said they're fantastic."

"She told you to buy cookies?"

"Well, she also told me where I could get the best makeup, bath oils, and clothes in Jader. But I don't really need any of those things." I paused. "Well, the bath oils maybe. Those are nice."

He laughed. Wynne all but ran out of the estate as we led the Warden group in. She looked over us and gasped before bursting into tears. Anders and I exchanged a confused glance. "Wynne?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

She ignored us, rushing towards the back of our group. "Moira?" I heard her gasp out. "I thought you died in Denerim! We all did!" I sighed. I should have made sure Moira knew it would be safe to write and let any old friends in the Circle know she was alive. I had assumed she would have realized as much. Watching them, I believe my jaw might have actually hit the ground when our militantly libertarian, almost-Chasind apostate looked at Wynne and began sobbing before throwing herself into the arms of the grey haired mage.

Hadn't she called her sanctimonious and preachy not long ago?

"Ohhhh…" Anders said next to me. I looked over. "Wynne was her mentor. I don't know how I forgot, she used to constantly ask why I couldn't pay attention like little Moira did."

"Little Moira?" I giggled.

"She was pretty little back then, keep in mind. This is more than a decade ago. Probably right before my harrowing." Anders made a face. "Maker's breath, am I _old_?"

I looked over at him. "Probably. You're older than me," I said, laughing.

He looked at me and made a face before smiling. "Ow!" I said as he yanked out a strand of my hair. "Why did you do that?" Without saying a word he handed it to me. I gasped. "No!"

"Yes," Anders replied, smirking.

"What? No!"

"Yes," he laughed. "I noticed the other day… been waiting for the perfect moment to tell you."

"No?" I said again, horrified.

"I may be older than you," Anders said. "But I don't have any _grey hair_."

"No!" I covered my head with my hands. "That was… a fluke."

"I'm sure it was," Anders said, patting my arm and not sounding sincere in the least. "Come on, Grandma. We have a speech to give."

"I hate you," I hissed.

He laughed again. "Oh, calm down. It was one hair. I'm sure it _was_ a fluke. You probably won't see another for years."

"You're sure there aren't any others?" I said.

"Yes," he laughed. "I should have just yanked it out while you were sleeping. I thought it would be funny, I didn't realize you'd overreact so much."

"I don't want to get old," I muttered.

Anders raised an eyebrow. "You do realize aging isn't a genlock you can kill. There aren't many options as far as that's concerned."

"I _know_ that," I said. "But… the older I get, the closer I am to…"

He sighed. "Well then. My joke has taken a turn for the miserable. I'm sorry."

I shook my head, walking in now that I saw Wynne and Moira had themselves under control. "It isn't your fault you married a crazy person. Well, the crazy isn't your fault. Being married to me certainly is, though. That was _all_ your idea."

Anders put an arm around my waist, chuckling. "Oh, admit it. It's a dream come true."

"Lucky for me it's more like the dirty ones than the darkspawn ones," I said. "Plus, having you wear a wedding ring is much better than my other plan to get the recruits to stop eyeing you." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you would want me to have 'property of the Warden Commander' embroidered on all your robes."

He made a low growling sound close to my ears. "I love when you're territorial. We have a private cabin, right?"

"The one benefit to being a noble."

"Fantastic."

The Wardens were all given first-row seats. I sat with my legs on the small crate containing the archdemon blood. Anders would take my spot as soon as he was done so it wouldn't be left unguarded.

Several of the Circle's senior enchanters spoke and, to my surprise, the Revered Mother of Amaranthine, who talked about a new era of cooperation between mages and the Chantry. Anders went before me. He talked about the importance of being able to work through distractions, describing what may be going on around you as you try to heal during battle. He also spent a great deal of time covering what sort of healing should be done immediately, and what sort is safer to save until after the fight is done.

Once he was done several people asked questions, mostly about specific incidents. I suspect they just wanted to hear exciting tales of the Grey Wardens, to be honest. Which is probably why they kept me talking so long I had to eventually refuse any further questions. I think I may have given anecdotes from half the fights I'd been in over the last seven years.

Once the speeches, dinner, and our arcane warrior demonstration were finished we stood around, speaking with the people we knew, until it was time to leave for the harbor.

"So this is the _first time_ Wardens from different nations have bothered to meet formally?" the Knight-Commander was saying, shocked. It was, strangely, a very civil, even friendly, conversation. Of course, it was also perhaps the first time he spoke to me like I was an equal right from the beginning.

"Apparently," I said. "Or the first time anyone can remember. Insane, isn't it?"

He nodded, clearly thinking just that. "Even the Knight-Commanders all meet once every other year in Val Royeaux."

"I got the idea from the Dalish, actually," I said. "But I suspect it's the same thing. They do a gathering of all the clans every few years so they can tell each other what they've been doing, share things they've learned, trade ideas, things like that."

"It's only reasonable," he said.

"Exactly!" I nodded. "I have no idea why no one thought of it before. I'm glad I mentioned something to the Warden Commander of Orlais when I saw him, he set the whole thing up. I don't know if I'd want to host it."

I saw Anders talking to a blonde woman in green enchanter robes not far away. "Why not? When I saw Vigil's Keep it looked to be almost completely rebuilt."

I shook my head. "Not that. It's just…" I dropped my voice. "The other Wardens? They're intimidated enough by me. The archdemon thing. I hate it. I'd rather be one of the crowd, not make myself stand out even more as the host. Plus, you know how everyone else thinks of Ferelden."

"True enough," he said. I noticed the blonde enchanter putting her hand on Anders' arm while he stared at me, obviously trying to get my attention. Excusing myself from the conversation with the templar I walked over to him.

"I still can't believe _you_ of all people are married," she was saying, quite clearly flirting with him. "What poor woman would fall for your lines? And are you _really _sure she'll be keeping you busy later?"

"I had planned on it," I interrupted, wrapping my arm around Anders' waist.

"Where have you _been?_" he whispered in my ear. "Bess," he went on in a volume she could hear, "please meet the poor woman who fell for my lines."

"Hrmph," I muttered, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

"My lady?" she said, clearly shocked. I couldn't be too surprised, mages rarely kept up on current events. "I didn't realize…"

"Actually, I prefer Commander. I think of myself as a Grey Warden before a noblewoman." The woman stuttered an apology and literally ran away from us. "What was that all about?"

"An old… um…"

"Understood," I said.

"She didn't seem to get the hint when I told her I was married, oh, half a dozen times before you came over."

"What a charmer," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Can we go now? Before her I had two men I've never met, and four more that I have, come over to tell me just how _lucky_ I am to snag you."

"Well you are!" I said, laughing as I wrapped both my arms around his waist.

Anders put an arm around me. "Oh, I know it. I just don't need half a dozen of your former lovers telling me why. In detail."

"_Did you hear about the Warden Commander?" _someone said, not far from us. "_They say she took on a pirate and two greased nugs between the sheets!"_

All right, perhaps it was time to go.

"Actually," I said, turning to the gossiper. "It was a _lady_ pirate and an Antivan assassin. No nugs. If you're going to gossip at least get it _right_." Her jaw dropped and I finally recognized her. We had been apprentices together. She gossiped about me, then, too. "And it was _fantastic._ Not as good as any average night with him, though," I added, pointing to Anders.

"Aw, thanks honey," Anders said, kissing my cheek.

"Oh, it's all true. The things you can do with a rejuvenate spell should be illegal."

We grinned and walked out arm in arm, leaving her shocked and red faced.

Arriving at the harbor I was surprised by how busy it was. Good, I suppose. Trade and so forth. That was the sort of thing a Bann should care about, wasn't it? "I think that one's ours," I said, pointing to one of the only passenger ships docked.

Someone at the dock tried to take the archdemon blood from me. "No," I said. "I can carry this."

"But my lady," the man began once again. I suspected someone had told him he should carry people's luggage and didn't know quite what to do when they refused.

"_No,_" I said more forcefully.

He raised his hands in supplication and dropped the subject. We were led through the ship to our cabins, four rooms not far from where the captain would be. Fancy. "I've never been on a boat before," Anders said. "Well, other than the times they brought me back to the tower."

"I've never even _wanted_ to be on a boat," Oghren added. "Traveling on top of the water… something about that just seems unnatural."

"I took a boat from Redcliffe to Kinloch Hold and back again once during the blight," I offered. "It wasn't as bad as the little boat from Kinloch Hold to the tower. I hate that damn thing."

"I've jumped out of it so many times they hogtied me the last time I was brought back," Anders said. I could only shake my head at that. Whenever he told those stories part of me would always wonder why he hadn't been executed, and the very idea gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach I'd rather avoid.

Once in our cabin Anders locked and barricaded the door. The ship lurched, presumably moving out to sea, and he fell forward, pinning me face down on the bed.

"Oh hello," he said in my ear. "You know what I think?"

"What's that?" I asked, turning my head so my face wasn't smashed against the mattress.

"I think we would be _fools_ to ignore a sign from the Maker like this." I tried to scoot out from beneath him. "Where are you going?" he whispered before pinning my arms beneath me and quickly unlacing my robes.

"Nowhere?" I said, my giggle cut off as a warm hand slipped under my clothes, gently squeezing a nipple between his fingers. "Oh!"

"Good?" It's amazing how I could _hear_ him smirking even without being able to see him.

"Yes."

"Harder?" he chuckled, breath tickling my ear.

"Please," I gasped. The squeezing became a pinching and I groaned, grinding against him. A moment later he moved off of me just long enough for my robes to be sent flying across the room. I felt teeth moving from my shoulder to my neck. Hands ran across my body, grabbing and pinching and scratching. I whimpered with frustration, writhing below him.

"What's wrong," he said, one hand resting on my inner thigh. It started to creep higher… and stopped. I whined his name. "Something you need?"

"Please," I begged him. "Touch me."

"But I am," he laughed, running a hand up from my stomach to cup my breast in demonstration. "Or… did you mean something else. Somewhere in specific?" I made a sound of frustration and he laughed again. "Is _this_ what you want," Anders whispered into my ear, the hand on my thigh sliding upward. I groaned as he spread me open and began to pant as he started rubbing.

"Yes," I gasped. Pinned under him I could do little more than cry out his name again and again. Anders growled as I shrieked underneath him and jumped up, grabbing me by the hips and flipping me to my back. "You're still dressed," I said.

"Don't care," he muttered, pulling me to the edge of the bed and hooking his arms around my legs. "Can't wait, need you now." He moved his robes out of the way and slid into me in one quick thrust. My back arched and I drew in a sharp breath.

"Love you," I managed to gasp out eventually, once I realized my muscles just wouldn't cooperate enough for me to sit up and kiss him.

"Good," he said, leaning down to kiss me roughly, letting my legs fall. Anders gave me a mischievous grin before grabbing my wrists and holding them against the bed. Before I could respond I was shrieking his name out again, my legs wrapped around his waist as tightly as his long fingers were around my wrists. "Love you, Maggie," he said, kissing me again once I had regained some composure. My reprieve didn't last since a moment later one of his hands was reaching between us. I felt his fingers against me and then, a moment later, magic pouring out of him.

Anders met my incoherent howl with a roar of his own before we both collapsed, sweaty and exhausted. "I think I like sailing," he said after a moment.

"What does this have to do with sailing?" I was yanking my nightshirt on and getting ready for bed.

"Not a clue," Anders admitted. "But it's the first thing I'll think of whenever the subject is mentioned in the future."

It took us more than a week to reach Jader due to unfavorable winds. They were, apparently, better for the return voyage. I had planned for extra time, though, so we would still be arriving days before we had to be there.

On the third night we were curled up in bed talking when someone began rattling our doorknob. Gesturing for silence, Anders kicked the chair out of the way and we both feigned sleep. "Got you!" Anders called a moment later, casting a force field even as I cast a spell to light the candles in our room.

The man who had asked me if he could carry the archdemon blood when we boarded was trapped in Anders' spell, one hand stuck against the crate. "Idiot," Anders muttered. "Did you think we were carrying a fortune in a dirty wooden box?"

He blinked in fear, unable to respond due to the magic still working against him. "It's... research material for the Grey Wardens of Jader," I said. "Fatal to anyone _but_ a Grey Warden. I refused to let you carry it since it could _kill you_." Anders hopped from bed before the spell dissipated, walking to the door and calling for a guard. I was glad the night had been cool and we were at least both wearing pajamas.

I could only vaguely hear what Anders and the guard were saying. "Bleeding from the eyes," was mentioned, as was "complete mental collapse." I tried to keep my face straight. The spell had worn off but when the man moved to run I let lightning jump from one hand to another. That seemed to glue him to the floor. "I'd keep him under _close_ observation for at _least_ a month," Anders said. "Just to make sure he isn't ill. If he is, well… best to end it quickly." Before the would-be thief could say much more he was pulled from our room by the guard.

"He had a bloody key!" Anders said. "Aren't you glad I'm paranoid?"

"Very," I agreed. "Really, though… bleeding from the _eyes_?"

Anders snickered, climbing back into bed with a smirk on his face. "Well, he'll think twice about trying to dig through anyone else's mysterious packages.

I was relieved when we finally arrived in Jader and I could pass the box off to Alain, who met us at the harbor in a plain black coach with the Warden griffon on the side.

He opened the crate immediately, inspecting one of the flasks. "So… anyone thirsty?" he joked. I laughed, relaxing instantly. It was the same joke Anders made while we sat in the basement with Nathaniel packing up the blood. I suppose the Wardens of Thedas could bond over a shared love of extraordinarily morbid humor.

* * *

_Totally forgot to mention- the overheard gossip is from Witch Hunt. The same apprentices who do the"did you see her? is she awake yet?" gossip in the mage origin apparently lived to gossip another day._

_And at last we come to Jader... I always smash my head on the wall for these transitional chapters. It's never how I want it. Oh well, such is life._

_There is awesome new art! You'll need to remove the spaces to see everything (or go to my profile where I have them linked): _  
_Galagraphia did this awesomely EPIC picture of Anders and Maggie. **http :/ galagraphia. deviantart. com/ #/ d2zlyda **_  
_And she posted the work in progress here, which is rather fascinating IMO. **http :/ galagraphia. deviantart. com/ gallery /#/ d2zm0a2**_  
_Phoenix and Ashes did this fantastic pic of Maggie in a scene from chapter 22 of Blue Skies looking her... classy best. ;) ** http :/ phoenixandashes. deviantart .com /#/ d2zlm2y  
**Can I just say, I absolutely adore my readers. You guys are awesome. Reviews, emails, artwork... I'm too lucky! Every day is like Christmas (only without the family guilt and air travel!) _


	73. Just be glad we didn't bring our dogs

We passed through the city and I tried desperately not to be _too_ obvious in my staring at the buildings. I had heard Jader was very much like a Ferelden city, but couldn't quite imagine how anyone would believe that. Ferelden buildings were mostly wood, with thatch roofs still common even in city homes. Stone was reserved for the homes of the highest classes. Even the Keep was a combination of stone and wood framing. Every building we passed here seemed to be stone, though. Some even _marble_. Many had rounded archways or elaborate carved details. "Can you believe this?" Anders whispered.

"No!" I replied. "It's so pretty!"

"Have you ever been outside Ferelden?" Alain asked, apparently noticing us staring slack jawed.

"We've been to Orzammar," I said, "but nowhere else."

"I have always wanted to go there. I hear it is quite spectacular."

"It is," I said. "They really respect Grey Wardens, too. If you ever decide to go let me know, we're getting a permanent garrison set up there soon, I can have our people put you up."

"I would hate to cause you any inco—"

"Human sized beds," I broke in.

"On the other hand, meeting more of my brothers and sisters from Ferelden would be nice," Alain said quickly. I laughed.

The Warden compound in Jader was a white stone building with a shield design carved over the windows and doors, each bearing the Warden griffon.

We hopped down from the coach, leaving our trunks for a handful of servants who rushed out. I could hear dozens of people speaking in at least three or four different languages once we were in the entryway. Following Alain through the compound I peeked in a doorway.

Groups of people in armor and robes were mingling, most smiling as they talked. As we expected, men outnumbered women by an impressive margin. Out of the roughly forty people in the room there were only half a dozen or so women, excluding Moira and myself. I could see an older elven woman with salt and pepper hair, a couple of young human women in light armor, a pair of dwarves in dragonbone plate speaking intently, and a woman who looked to be dalish judging by her tattoos. I was surprised to see her carrying a staff, though. I didn't think dalish mages ever left their clans, they were highly respected and considered invaluable. Humans made up almost half of the group, not surprisingly. The rest was weighted in favor of elves. Again, I'd expected as much. Dwarves may _respect_ the Wardens but quite a few of them saw no reason to go to the surface and fight darkspawn when they could do the same at home. Mages were also disproportionately represented, and it seemed the majority were speaking Tevinter. I guess everyone had the same idea I did.

"The Anderfels insisted on sending over a dozen people!" Alain whispered, passing the crowded room without entering. "But the First Warden did not come. I think he is… nearing the end of his tenure. If you follow my meaning?" I nodded, realizing he was trying to delicately say the First Warden was getting very close to the Calling.

"Are we the last to arrive?" I asked.

"No, we are still waiting on the Antivans." He chuckled. "You know how Antivans can be, though. They'll sweep in at the last moment. They love a spectacular entrance." I snorted, not surprised that was a national characteristic.

Alain showed us the dining room and kitchen, and led us up the stairs to where our trunks had been stowed. "So are you picking _everyone_ up from the harbor?" I asked him. "How do you have the time?"

"Only your group," he said. "I wanted to ask you something, but I suspected you would not be… thrilled." I waited for him to go on. "You are one of the only living Wardens to see an archdemon. Almost everyone has expressed an interest in hearing about that." He looked embarrassed. "I should have said something before you arrived."

"I assumed as much," I said. "I would want to hear it if I hadn't seen the archdemon for myself, and I suspect there are things I could warn people about that should be recorded for the Wardens who face the next blight."

He looked relieved. "Good. I know you have no love of public speaking, but this seemed too important."

"I agree completely," I assured him. "I actually made some notes while we were on the boat coming here just so I would be prepared." He looked relieved.

"Did he think I'd say no?" I said to Anders, chuckling, once Alain had left and we were alone in our small but absurdly well appointed room.

"Maybe?" Anders said. "Who knows. You do have a reputation for causing riots whenever you're asked to speak in public."

"This isn't public," I said. "They're Wardens. Same as us." I looked over at the shelf near the bath, covered in fancy oils and soaps. "Well, with minor regional variations," Anders laughed, seeing where my gaze had landed. I picked one up and opened it. "Oooh. It smells like… trees."

Anders sniffed. "It does. I like it. Not as flowery as most of that sort of thing." He reached around me, turning the knob that would fill the bath with water. "They _did_ tell us to relax and get cleaned up from our trip," he said.

That was true. And it was a surprisingly large bathtub.

"How's my neck?" I asked Anders after we had managed to drag ourselves out of the bath and get dressed.

"Gorgeous," he replied, kissing me.

"Appreciated, but not what I mean," I said. "I don't want to go down there and have someone tell me I'm bleeding. Again. Bad enough when that happens around the people who _know _us."

"You're fine," he laughed. I checked my hair again and, at the last second, pushed most of it back with silver comb. "Calm down," Anders said, grabbing my hands. "They're just Wardens, like us, remember?"

"I know," I said. "I'm just… nervous. What if they think we're barbarians?"

"They already do," he pointed out. "Just be glad we didn't bring our dogs."

"I miss my dog. I wish we had."

"Well, I miss my dog _and_ my cat." He kissed me on the cheek. "Come on, we need to go out there sometime. They'll notice if we hide in here all week."

I nodded. "I look all right?"

"You ask _me_?" Anders said, laughing. "You look fine. Beautiful. Perfect. Lovely. Pick whichever adjective makes you happiest. _Stop worrying._ The Orlesian Wardens love you, the man we met from Weisshaupt loved you. It will be _fine_."

We left the room, shutting the door behind us, and walked downstairs. Both of us had worn armor for most of the trip here, trying to minimize how much attention we attracted. Now that we were among Wardens our robes returned.

"Hey Boss," Tobias called as we walked into the room where we had seen the Wardens gathered earlier.

I smiled and began to approach him before I realized all conversation had completely _stopped_ the moment we walked in… and everyone was staring at me. "Anders?" I whispered.

"No idea," he said.

"Oh Maker," I said, walking further in. Yep. Still watching me. Kind of creepy. Kind of _really_ creepy.

"Maggie, Anders!" Alain called, rushing over to us. I noticed a woman who had been standing at his side quickly hurrying around the room. As she went from one cluster of people to the next they stopped gawking at us and returned to their conversations. She must be his Nathaniel.

"Did I somehow already commit some huge breech of etiquette?" I asked him when he was next to us.

"What?" he said, sounding surprised. "No, of course not. I think everyone's a bit… curious. Your reputation is no small thing, even outside Ferelden."

I sighed. "I know. I guess I should have expected it. I just hoped…" I shrugged. "Well, no matter." I forced myself to smile. "This building is lovely. I really have to thank you again for doing all this."

He shrugged. "It was your idea, I simply ran with it."

"I'm glad you did. I couldn't have managed all this."

He raised his eyebrows, casting me a dubious glance. I didn't argue further, but I was right. I couldn't have done this. Mostly because _he_ was the only one outside Weisshaupt who ever answered my letters. No one else had even sent so much as a single mage to learn the arcane warrior spells.

Alain began dragging us around the room, introducing Anders and I to various people. Evidently he had done the same with the others, who made it downstairs before we did. Not surprising, given that Anders and I had let ourselves get… distracted. Fantastic first impression. But at least maintaining a smile was significantly easier than usual for both of us.

"This is Commander Gerard of the Free Marches," he said, introducing me to a large man with a head full of wild red curls. I offered my hand.

"I should apologize," Gerard said. "I've been intending to write to you for ages now to arrange for some of our mages to get trained in those combat skills. Alain was just telling us how useful they are."

"They're _fantastic_," I said. "I can't even count how many times it's saved my life." Anders voiced his agreement. We made vague plans for him to send us people at a date we would determine in the future, before Alain hustled us along.

"Marko," he said, "this is Maggie and Anders of Ferelden." Marko, Warden Commander of Antiva, it turned out, was also Marko, Very Obviously Former Antivan Crow, judging by his tattoos. I didn't think it was my place to say anything, though, since he might not tell people who couldn't figure it out on their own.

"You aren't what I had expected," the dark haired elf said to me, as if admitting a secret. His accent was very much like Zevran's, not surprisingly, but his voice and manner was far more cheerful and open.

"Oh?" I said. "Is that good or bad?"

"Probably good," he said, shrugging. He leaned forward, dropping his voice. "We all assumed you would be ugly."

"Why would you assume that?" Anders asked, shocked.

"Easier to picture that than a pretty girl fighting an archdemon," he said. "I know, it doesn't make sense. But… there you have it. We don't have many women in the order in Antiva. A couple apostates, a handful of former bards and assassins, that is really all. Antivan women generally avoid fighting."

"Not Ferelden women," I said. "I think…" I paused, trying to picture everyone. "Yes, I think we may actually have almost as many women as men. Mostly rogues and mages, true, but we do have a couple female warriors."

"I've heard that about Ferelden women. It must be nice, not to be constantly surrounded by nothing but men. Well… nice _for_ the men." He laughed, as did Anders, and then paused. "Is it true you once killed a pride demon by yourself?"

I blinked, shocked. "What? A _pride_ demon? Alone? Maker, no. I killed one with four other people and a mabari once during the blight, and Anders and I killed one, along with Moira and another of our mages once. Those things are _huge_."

"Blackmarsh," Anders said. "The Baroness. She was a pride demon."

"Right!" I said. "And we killed one with Oghren, my second in command, and the fade spirit embodiment of Justice. He had gotten pulled from the fade and trapped in the body of a dead Grey Warden. And wow. That sounds _utterly_ insane."

"Only slightly," he said. "I think we all become quite used to accepting the insane in this line of work." I had to smile, I was in complete agreement with that. "I've never seen one."

"They're… about three or four times the size of a large ogre," I said, figuring he would know what I meant. His eyes went wide. "See? No way could one person take that down alone. Horrid things. Worst demons to fight, really."

We moved on not long after. I thought that would be the strangest question. But no. Did I really kill the Grand Cleric of Ferelden with my bare hands? Did I really ride a high dragon once? Was it true the king and I were considered honorary members of the Dalish? Did I actually run up the archdemon's back?

Well, the last one was true, at least.

"This is Fiona, here representing Weisshaupt," Alain said, introducing us to the older mage.

She smiled and nodded. "You were recruited by Duncan, yes?" Her accent was faintly Orlesian.

I nodded. "Did you know him?"

"Many years ago," she said. "We were very good friends in our youth. Learning about his death…"

I nodded. "Alistair and I were both devastated as well." She gave me a strange look, probably because of how casually I referred to my nation's monarch. "Well, technically it's King Alistair now. But, I don't call him that. I think he'd hit me if I tried."

"Oh, so you remain friends?" she said.

I nodded. "Very good friends, he's like a brother to me. I'm actually standing for his son's dedication in the Chantry soon. Well, as soon as the baby's born, at least."

"I wasn't aware the King and Queen of Ferelden were expecting," Alain said.

"Should be fairly soon now," Anders said. "Before Wintersend. I managed to develop a potion to help counteract the effects of the taint. Of course, his wife isn't a Warden, which made it much easier."

"The Chantry is allowing a mage to hold the heir to the throne for the ceremony?" Alain said, shocked.

"Times are changing in Ferelden," I said. "We haven't turned into Tevinter or anything, but it is definitely a different world than it was ten years ago. Besides, I've only got a fifty-fifty chance of getting the heir to the throne. The Queen's brother will be there as well. They're expecting twins. Both boys." I looked at Fiona and added "he's already decided to name one Duncan. The other will be named Bryce, after the Queen's late father."

"They must be quite pleased," she said in a strange voice. "Please, excuse me. I just remembered there is something I should attend to." She walked off quickly without another word.

"Did I say something?" I asked Alain. He shrugged.

"Fiona's a strange one," he said. "She's been up North too long. She was just saying she was hoping to be reassigned somewhere further South soon. Perhaps she misses Orlais."

"Oh," I said, not entirely sure that explained it. He moved us along.

"This is Augustus, Commander of the Tevinter Imperium Wardens," Alain said, introducing us to a tall mage with very dark hair and very pale eyes.

He grinned broadly and enthusiastically embraced Anders and I, to our surprise. "I have been looking forward to meeting you both!" he said in his own language. "The stir you've caused in the Ferelden Chantry has been on everyone's lips in the Imperium. Wonderful to know fewer mages will be forced into a life of imprisonment and servitude."

"It is exciting," I agreed. "For some time I suspected Anders and I would have to pack up and transfer to your branch, but it looks as though we may have actually won the battle. Granted, the Divine has declared us both heretic and me maleficar…" I shrugged.

"But… you are," he said, grinning conspiratorially. "What is the saying? It takes one to know one?" He laughed at the joke, holding up a scarred palm.

"Am I the _only_ one," Anders said, shocked.

"Are you a healer?" Augustus asked him. Anders nodded. "Not surprising. Most of the healers in our branch aren't, either. Almost everyone else is, though." He shrugged. "It's too much power to pass up. Not when you face an enemy like we do. Darkspawn are many and Wardens are few, we need any advantage there is. I refuse to believe the Maker would frown on anyone who only wants to protect mankind. It only makes us all the more effective at serving man, which is what we are directed to do."

"Yes," I said. "Exactly." Alain nodded in agreement as well.

"I can't argue with that," Anders said. "It makes me uncomfortable because it's an excuse used to cage us, and I worry about how the public would react. But no, I can't see any sin in fighting darkspawn."

Alain shrugged. "I do not think mind control can even be done. It seems a myth, something only abominations and the possessed can do."

"Oh no," Augustus said. "It can be done. I have _seen_ it done. Horrifying. It requires a great deal of blood, though. And it requires a way to get the blood directly on your target. It isn't practical for anyone using only their own blood for a spell, which, of course, is all I allow of my mages." He shrugged.

"Same," Alain and I both said in agreement.

"If only we could find a way to use the darkspawn's blood," I mused. "_That_ I wouldn't mind doing."

Alain shook his head. "I've tried. I think it is… too corrupt. Our blood is tainted, but it is still the blood of a person, it is still the blood of a human or elf. Them… they are something else entirely. It would be like trying to use the blood of an abomination, I think."

"What did you say to the Weisshaupt mage?" Augustus asked us. "She rushed out, and looked to be crying."

"Oh Maker," I gasped. "I don't know. She mentioned Duncan, that they were friends. He was the Commander in Ferelden who recruited me, and died in the first battle of the blight. Maybe talking about him was more difficult than she expected."

Alain leaned towards me. "She was on that Deep Roads trip, with your King Maric." My eyes went wide. "And… she gave birth nine months later."

I gasped. "Do you think Duncan was…?"

"Perhaps," Alain said. "The two of them took the child to Ferelden. He remained there, and she went on to Weisshaupt. No one knows what happened to it, though."

"But two Wardens?" I said. "I thought that was impossible. _Please_ tell me that's impossible."

Alain and Augustus both laughed, seeing the panicked glance Anders and I exchanged. "You joined… six years ago? Seven?"

"Seven," I confirmed.

"Four for me," Anders said.

"Impossible," Alain said. "But… at the time of that trip Duncan had been a Warden for perhaps six months, and Fiona no more than nine. At that point… who knows, perhaps it can happen. Maybe a fluke, maybe because they were so new. Maybe she was already pregnant when they left, or became pregnant soon after returning, and the father was someone outside the order, and her grief was over the loss of a friend. I'm not about to ask."

"Me neither," I agreed. "I feel bad for making her cry, though."

"It wasn't intentional," Anders said, putting his arm across my shoulders.

"Even so."

Augustus looked at me. "It occurs to me. Since you are here… how complex are those warrior-mage spells? Could you teach me at some point during the week?"

"Absolutely," I said. "It shouldn't take more than a few hours, maybe we can do a small class for any mages here. The problem is that, since they're elven, I don't have the first idea of how to go about documenting them. They don't use any of the normal forms, and I don't think anyone knows the written form of their language. Even among the Dalish. It isn't difficult, but it has to be taught face to face."

"Excellent," he said. "I wanted to come to Ferelden but then your Chantry troubles began and I honestly didn't even know if it was safe to write to you. A letter from the Imperium… people could make incorrect assumptions. It seemed safer to wait and not inadvertently add to your problems." I had to admit, he made a good point. A letter from anywhere in the Tevinter Imperium at the height of our problems, when even our mail was intercepted, would have been a disaster.

Someone came in to announce a meal being served not long after. "I like the Tevinter commander," Anders whispered as we walked.

"Me too," I added. "He's very nice. I haven't had such a long conversation in Tevinter in years, though. I'm amazed I still remember it all!"

We were seated with the Nevarran group. Alain had mentioned it would change at every meal so we all got a chance to get to know one another. The Wardens of Nevarra were… very serious. Very, _very_ serious.

"You _allow _your Wardens to… fraternize?" their commander asked me, aghast. We had mentioned something about Sigrun and Nathaniel, and from that he gathered they were involved. Apparently he hadn't realized Anders and I were as well, or Ronan and Moira.

"Why not?" I said, shrugging. "Aren't our lives bad enough?"

He shook his head. "I think relationships… they distract from our work."

"Never been a problem for me. I can't imagine how you live like that. I'd go mad."

"_Mankind_ is such a… vague term," Ronan interjected. "It seems easier to keep fighting when you can think of someone specific you want to keep safe instead of some nebulous abstract concept."

"Especially when that someone is five feet away from you, cursing like a dockworker while she scales an ogre with a pair of daggers," Anders said.

"That is a lot of fun," I admitted. "But really, happy people do better at their jobs, and work harder. Happy people don't have as many reasons to complain. If I'm going to ask people to risk their lives, guarantee they won't live to see old age, and ruin any hopes they might have for a family, the least I can do is not stop anyone from finding someone they care about. Or even just having a bit of fun."

He shook his head. "It just seems so… undisciplined. I don't want to sound like I'm questioning your methods, since they clearly work for you. I simply can't imagine how such a thing would go over among our branch of the order. I'd be worried of jealousy, arguments spreading from the bedroom to the battlefield, someone becoming distracted because they see their partner fall in a fight and ending up hurt themselves. Things like that."

"Are there many women in the order in Nevarra?" Moira spoke up.

"Three," he said. "No… no, four now. We just brought in a new apostate healer."

"Almost half of the Ferelden Wardens are women," she said with a slight smile.

"That many!" he seemed very shocked. "I had heard about the women of Ferelden being more… open to fighting than women of other nations. But it is surprising."

"From what I know that wasn't always the case," I said. "I was the only woman in the order at the time of my recruitment. But the order was less than two dozen people then. We're nearly eighty now."

"I'm sure quite a few women were inspired hearing about you," Moira added. "They may not have realized joining was even an option for them before you became well-known."

"I admit," the Nevarran said. "Keeping people apart in an environment like that would be… challenging." He laughed. "I suppose allowing it is better than spending half of your night patrolling the halls and checking bedrooms."

"And less hypocritical on my part," I said, holding up my left hand to display the rings.

"Oh," he said, blushing. "I did not realize you were married. Please, accept my apologies for even bringing this subject up, in that case. It was quite rude of me."

"It's a recent thing," Anders said, resting his hand over mine briefly. "Just a few months ago."

"My congratulations," he said, raising a glass to us. "I _had_ heard gossip that said as much but… well, we have learned to ignore any gossip about your, um, personal life. Most is rather _colorful_."

"I can imagine," I said. "I've heard some of it myself. Never so much as given the King of Ferelden more than a sisterly kiss on the cheek, but the things people say about us… wow."

"Yes, even as far North as Nevarra we've heard some of those." He laughed, obviously slightly relieved to discover he was not, in fact, sitting across from a king's mistress who was also married to another man. It would have been rather strange, I suppose.

Oghren and Ronan eventually fell into discussion with the Commander who, as it turned out, was a former Ash Warrior and thus, a Berserker. Anders, Moira and I started to talk with the mage in their group. He seemed rather excited about learning the spells before we left, so I decided I would ask Alain if he could set aside a larger practice room for us after dinner, since there were no other plans. I mentioned it when he stopped by our table, acting the good host and ensuring we were all fine. He did one better by announcing it to everyone assembled, and providing enchanted practice weapons for all the mages.

After the meal we quickly changed into my armor and I tied my hair back. Ronan followed us down, since he was considerably larger than Anders. It would make for a much more impressive demonstration. Plus, we'd long since discovered the only way anyone could _actually_ spar with me was to either be a dwarf or a templar, since they wouldn't simply be knocked down by a single spell. Plus, Tevinter was the only language we all had in common, and Ronan knew it.

Demonstrating the first spell, Moira grinned and picked Ronan off the floor. She was taller than me, but so slight of build only her height kept her from being mistaken for an elf, while Ronan had the build of someone who spent every day training or fighting since adolescence. Everyone gasped in surprise.

"You said this was a Dalish technique," the women who I actually suspected to _be_ Dalish asked. "I've never heard of such a thing." She sounded more curious than anything else.

"It is," I said. "But it was lost." I briefly relayed the story of the phylactery I found. "I know the Keeper of one of the clans in Ferelden, I taught it to her. She told me she would pass it along at the next gathering of the clans." I smiled. "I've been teaching almost everyone I can, in truth. It's wonderfully useful, but that we have the chance to save this magic after it was thought lost… how could I pass that up? I'd hate for the knowledge to die all over again when I'm gone."

"What is the Chantry stance on this?" someone asked. I think they were with the Weisshaupt group, they were standing near Fiona, the woman who I apparently made cry.

"I don't think they _have_ one," I said. "I told the Knight-Commander of the Ferelden templars about it some time ago, he said it sounded very useful but didn't seem particularly horrified." Grinning, I added, "beyond being horrified and lecturing me for trusting some strange phylactery I found in a ruin."

Everyone chuckled at that. Nervousness was a Templar trait everywhere, I suspected.

"Yes, but that's the _Ferelden_ Chantry," that same mage. "From what I know, it may as well be the Imperial Chantry these days." He blushed and looked over at the group from the Imperium. Augustus was watching him with a sardonic grin and arched brow. "Um, no offense intended."

"Of course," Augustus said. "Although really, why we should care what _any_ Chantry thinks confuses me. Are we not Grey Wardens?"

More than a few people made noises of agreement. "It isn't blood magic or anything like that," I assured him. "And really, even if it was, for our purposes _who cares_? I know more than a few of us have gone down that road. Any means necessary, right?" Shrugging, I added, "I require all the mages under my command to know these spells, but I'm not _your_ Commander. If you're not interested, that's fine. I only want to share what I've learned since it's saved my life more than once."

He nodded and looked prepared to leave. Without even turning to him Fiona reached out, grabbing his wrist. "You're staying."

"Ser," he said quickly, falling back into place without further argument. Wow… I suppose we were far less formal than everyone else.

The rest of the demonstration went by much more smoothly, although I did notice quite a few people eying Ronan nervously when I explained his training as a Templar allowed him to spar with me without the danger normal people would face.

They became far more friendly a moment later, though. "Now that my boss is done humiliating me in front of my girl," he laughed, "I wanted to let everyone know, if any of the warrior-trained members of your groups would like to learn the Templar skills I can teach them while we're here, and they can pass it on when you get home. They do work against emissaries. Just… you know, make sure they don't use them too close to _you_." I smiled. I'd hoped he would offer, and mentioned that some of the Wardens would probably be interested, but didn't want to push the issue since he did swear an oath never to reveal how Templars do what they do.

I noticed several people speaking to him after, including Augustus and Fiona. The offer was a tempting one to anybody who could look beyond their fear of Templars. I'd have Alain mention something to the other commanders who weren't mages, just in case the rest of their group was unable to do that and neglected to pass his offer along.

I noticed Fiona staring at me as the room cleared. "I'll catch up to you," I whispered to Anders. He nodded, kissing my forehead quickly before leaving. "Do you have a moment?" I asked, walking over to her. "I just wanted to apologize for whatever I might have said to upset you. I knew you were friends with Duncan but I wasn't aware of, um, how close you were…"

She gave me a blank look. "Pardon?"

"Augustus said you looked upset when you left the hall earlier. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say anything that would hurt you. Duncan was a remarkable man, I'm very sorry for your loss."

She sighed, putting a hand to her head in a gesture of frustration. "Is there a single mage in Thedas who _doesn't_ gossip like some sort of idiotic courtier?"

"Huh?" I said, not sure how to respond to that.

"Alain told you about when I was pregnant, I assume." I nodded. "And all of you somehow determined _Duncan_ was the father?"

"He wasn't?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No. Duncan should have been the one to tell you two Wardens can't have a child together. _Please _tell me you knew this. Maker's breath, you're _married _to another Warden, you _must_ know this." Fiona looked at me like I was some sort of idiot.

"He didn't, but in all fairness he died the day after my Joining. I found out later. We thought it was just a… fluke. Or because you were new."

"No, impossible is impossible. There are no _flukes_ as far as that is concerned. How long did you people stand around discussing this?" I blushed. I suppose it was pretty obnoxious of us. "If you _must _know, someone else on that expedition fathered my baby."

I blinked, trying to parse her statement. There was only one person on that trip who wasn't a Warden.

"Maker's breath," I gasped. "You mean Alistair has a sibling out there?" She raised her eyebrow and I did the math. "Wait… no. That was… 9:10 Dragon? And Alistair just turned… oh…."

"Oh," was all she said in reply.

* * *

_OH indeed. Gaider said the years were all wrong in the first edition of The Calling (which is the edition I read), and it was actually set exactly twenty years before the Blight, so that made everything seem pretty clear, since nineteen or twenty is just about the perfect age for Alistair in game._  
_Not intentional, since I'm sure both of us planned this out ages ago, but it is amusing that Miri and I have had the same Major Revelation in the same month._

_The Maker smiles on reviewers.  
And on that note, I have to give a shout out to Raven Jadewolfe, who in the last few days has read and reviewed basically every single chapter of every story I have on here.  
No small feat since this AOA is, as of the last chapter, the longest Dragon Age fic on the site. (How did this happen?)_


	74. Orphan saving puppy and kitten rescuers

Fiona stared at me. Obviously a revelation like that would require some sort of response. I took a deep breath. "So… there was no maid at Redcliffe?"

"There was, but none of us knew anything more about her than that she and the child both died, and it was only a week after Alistair had been born."

"Why?" I said finally. "Why not tell him? Why not have Duncan tell him years ago?"

She walked over to a bench along the wall and sat down. I followed her. "Why not tell him? Well, let's see… where should I start? I'm Orlesian, and this was less than ten years after we were driven from Ferelden. I'm a mage, so I shouldn't even _have_ to explain to you what that means. And to round it out, I'm also an elf. It is difficult enough to be an elf in this world; you would condemn him to being half elf, rejected by humans and elves alike, never having a place among either society? Do you _know_ the kind of life those children have?"

"My husband's mother was an elf," I said. "He doesn't talk about his childhood often but yes, I know it wasn't easy. It certainly doesn't matter to him now, though. He makes no secret of it, and no one cares. And it didn't make him love his mother any less. And if that is the case why not tell Alistair when he was an adult, when he became a Warden?"

She sighed. "I thought about it. For months I agonized. Tell him, upend his life, complicate everything for him… I haven't seen him since he was two months old. What right do I have? I would not be surprised if he simply rejected me outright for abandoning him, he has every right to do so."

"He wouldn't," I said. "I know him. He wouldn't, never in a thousand years."

"Perhaps," she said. "Duncan told me the same thing. He thought I should tell Alistair once he became a Warden. I was still trying to make up my mind. I _wanted_ to tell him. And then I heard about what happened at Ostagar and believed he died with the other Wardens. I thought I lost my chance. When word reached us that he was one of the survivors I thought it must have been a sign. I promised myself I would contact him as soon as we had any way to reach the two of you. But once the Blight ended…"

"He became king," I finished. She nodded.

"You _just _had a civil war. What would happen if everyone found out their new king was actually the bastard of an Orlesian elven mage?" She stared directly at me. "Come now, I know the Circle tends to give mages a special sort of ignorance about how the world works, but you didn't get out yesterday."

"Nothing good," I admitted. "But… that doesn't mean he would need to make some kind of public announcement."

"Gossip spreads," she said. "Anything that large and disastrous would find a way out."

"Ferelden isn't Orlais," I said after a moment. "Mages are treated better than anywhere outside the Imperium. Elves have full and equal rights under the law, even the Dalish. He's even got elven knights in his service. Mages, too. It wouldn't make him more _popular, _but I don't think it would bring down his reign. He's _very, very_ popular. People adore him, and with good reason."

"Have things changed so much?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "Mages… I can't even _begin _to list how much has changed. You would weep to hear it, really. It's just that amazing. You have your son to thank for that. He granted land to the Dalish, too. They've actually got a permanent home now. Dalish _architecture_, if you can imagine such a thing. The Denerim alienage has their own Bann, with the same rights as any other Bann, and all laws restricting jobs or carrying weapons or whatever are gone, legally there is no difference between a human or an elf. Actually, the alienage is basically just an elf-only neighborhood at this point. Alistair even had the gates removed and destroyed. It's far from the worst place in the city now, probably somewhere in the middle. The only reason it even exists is because the residents want it, to help preserve their culture."

"…an elven nobleman?" she sounded amazed.

"Noble_woman_, actually," I said. "We're friends. Her cousin's a Warden, too. He went apostate and she brought him to my attention when he was about to get caught."

"I know he was in the Chantry," she said after a moment. "Training to be a Templar…"

"You don't say," I replied, rolling my eyes. "You know he would have been the _worst_ Templar ever. Rumor has it his best friend is a maleficar. He even made a mage a noblewoman."

"He did?" she sounded shocked.

I chuckled. "He did. You're talking to her. Technically the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden is a Bann, and since _I'm _the Commander under Ferelden law I'm nobility."

"Hmm," she said. "I'd forgotten about that."

"You should tell him."

"It isn't as easy as you make it sound," she said.

I sighed. "Can I be blunt?"

"You don't really seem to be capable of anything else," she said.

"So I've been told," I said. "Look, Alistair will be thirty in just a few years, and I know you were a Warden when you had him. We both know what that means. You don't have much time left to think about this."

"Not necessarily," she said. "I'm a... special case. I'll explain more to everyone else before this ends."

"Even so," I said, not sure what she meant but assuming it would be explained later, "Alistair is one of the most important people in the world to me. He's like a brother. There is _one thing_ he has wanted his _entire life_ and never had before now: family. He would be _thrilled. _Thrilled beyond words. You have no idea how damn happy he would be. He has had…" I sighed, not wanting to tell her 'yeah, that plan to give him up for a better life? _totally _backfired on you since his life was horrid.' "He hasn't had the easiest life. This would mean so much to him. Maker's breath, you'll have two grandsons soon! You don't want to see them?"

"You think it's because I don't _want to_?" she snapped. "You're an idealist. You make everything sound like it can be waved off. Like if we simply want something bad enough we can have it. I'm more than old enough to know life doesn't work that way."

"Oh, don't give me that age shit," I said. "You think my life has been easy? You think my life _is_ easy? I've had to fight and kill for everything I have. Don't pretend I'm some Chantry sister promising that the Maker will provide. Easy or not, telling him is the right thing to do and you know it."

She sighed. After a few minutes of silence Fiona asked "what's he like?"

"He's funny," I said. "Very funny, very quick witted, and much more clever than he lets on. A bit self-deprecating at times, but he's gotten better about that. Alistair has a soft heart and a strong sense of justice. He likes helping people, he likes righting wrongs. Very chivalrous. That's how I talked him into being king. He didn't want to, you know. He really was terrified of the idea. All his life he'd been told he was a bastard who would never ever rule so don't even think about it or try. That he was nothing and would never be anything and trying would just get him killed since that's what happens to by-blows who forget their place. I pointed out just how _horrible_ some people's lives were in Ferelden, things we'd both seen and hated in our travels. Reminded him being king would give him the power to _fix _things, really fix things. So that's what he's done as king."

"He… he sounds a great deal like his father."

"That is what people say," I said. "Not having known him I wouldn't be able to tell you. I knew Loghain, though, and his stories of Maric do make them sound similar. Ironically, or maybe appropriately, I've been told by more than one person that _I_ remind them of Loghain. Usually as an insult, though."

She actually managed a chuckle at that. "Yes, from what Maric told me I can see where they might get that. He was apparently also a stubborn bastard who wouldn't take no for an answer." Fiona looked over at me and shook her head in surprise. "None of us at Weisshaupt could _believe_ you recruited him," she said, sounding impressed. "It was the right decision, but I'm sure it wasn't easily made, and we certainly didn't expect a green recruit to make it. The First Warden was very pleased. That's half the reason he was so eager for you to become Commander despite your age. He said it was proof you understood what it was to be a Warden. Of course, Duncan's last report mentioned you, and said he thought you had the potential to lead, but no one would have expected you to be in a position to do so for years."

"Alistair took a long time to forgive me for it. He didn't know what happened when the archdemon is killed. Neither of us did. Once he found out, and realized _that_ was why Loghain never came back from the roof of Fort Drakon… well, he actually asked for _my _forgiveness. Which was completely absurd as I was never upset with him to begin with."

"He's a good person?"

"One of the finest you could ever hope to meet," I said.

"Did… did he have a good life? A happy childhood?" I didn't say anything, she must have read the answer on my face. "I see. Duncan wouldn't tell me, either. I should have known from that. I gave him up so he could be happy. So he wouldn't be judged and hated for what I am."

"Chancellor Eamon works very, very hard. He has a lot to make up for. And he knows I'd kill him otherwise.

"I thought I was doing the right thing…"

"That's all any of us can do." I shrugged. "I'm sure no one expected Eamon to marry a screeching harpy who completely twisted him around her finger. I hate that bigoted bitch."

"But… even living with her, you say Alistair doesn't hold any prejudices?"

She didn't seem to _want_ to believe me. In fact, it seemed very much like she was doing everything she could to find reasons not to. "He didn't _live_ with her," I snapped. "He lived in the barn. They made him sleep in the Maker-damned barn like an animal, and shipped him off to the Chantry before he was even a teenager. So no, he didn't pick up any of her bigotry. And despite all that he still thinks of them as family, and still cares for them. _That_ is the kind of person he is. You _need_ to tell him."

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Oh Maker," I heard her mutter.

"Yep." I sighed. "He's had _nothing_ in his life, not until now. He once told me I was his first real friend. We met when he was _twenty!_ And even then, even with as miserable an existence as he had, he's one of the most cheerful, kind people you could ever meet. You know what his most prized possession is?" She looked at me. "A battered old Chantry amulet, broken and repaired a dozen times over, that he was told belonged to his mother. He never takes it off."

"It _was_ mine," she said quietly. "I didn't own anything else but my robes and staff to give him." Fiona leaned back, sighing. "I need to think about this. I should have expected it to come up, I knew the two of you were supposed to be close. It just isn't as simple as you make it out to be." Fiona looked at me from the corner of her eye. "You're just going to go ahead and tell him anyways, aren't you?"

Sighing, I shook my head. "Go to him and say 'I met your mother, she's not really dead, she knows who you are, and won't come forward'? No. I might as well rip out his heart myself if I do that. As much as I think he _deserves_ to know, I just can't bring myself to hurt him like that."

"Thank you." I shrugged. I wasn't doing it for her; I was doing it since I knew Alistair wouldn't even think of her reasons, he would just see it as a rejection of him. "I don't see how I have any right to even contact him. Who am I to him? I just gave birth. I didn't raise him, I wasn't there for him. I couldn't even pick him out of a crowd!"

"You're his _mother_, that is _all_ he will care about," I said. "And he's very easy to pick out of a crowd. Look for the large blonde man wearing a crown and eating cheese."

"What?"

"He likes cheese."

She shook her head and sighed. "That isn't what I mean. I'm a _stranger_ to him. I don't even know what he looks like. How can I call myself a mother when I couldn't tell you what the child I gave birth to looks like?"

"You don't have to be a stranger, though," I pointed out. "He wouldn't want you to be." Glancing over at her I noticed something. "Alistair has your eyes."

She bit her lip. "What else?"

"He's tall with a very large build. He _looks_ like a warrior. Dark blonde hair, worn short. He's got the Theirin nose." I shrugged, not sure what else to tell her. "A lot of people say he and my husband look enough alike to be related. I don't really see it, but that's what people say." I paused, jumping to my feet. "Actually, come with me."

She gave me a curious look but got up to follow. I managed to find my way back to the room Anders and I were sharing. Poking my head in, I made sure he was actually dressed before opening the door all the way. "Can I tell _him_," I asked her, while I dug through our trunk.

"Oooh, tell me what?" Anders said, perking up and setting his book aside.

Fiona rolled her eyes, muttering 'like idiotic courtiers' under her breath. "Fine," she said with a sigh while I dumped the contents of my normal travel bag on the bed.

"Anders, you remember Fiona, from Weisshaupt?"

"Yeeessss," he said. "Wait, that wasn't it, was it? Since that's pretty disappointing."

"No, that wasn't it," I laughed, hitting his leg. I finally found what I was looking for. Unlatching the small picture frame I gestured Fiona over and set it on the bed. One side was a small painting I had done of everyone I traveled with during the blight. The other was a similar painting of Anders and I with Oghren, Sigrun, and Nathaniel, done not long after the Architect's death. "That's him," I said, pointing to Alistair. "That's your son." She picked it up, staring intently.

"Ohhhhh," Anders said, glancing from the picture to Fiona. He covered his mouth with his hand, but I could tell from his eyes that he was smirking.

I grabbed a small wooden box and began sorting through the folded bits of paper in it. I unfolded a wanted poster we tore down during the blight, a sketch of his coronation, an early design for the statue of us in Denerim, and several other odd bits and pieces.

"I can't believe you carry all this with you," Anders said, shocked.

I shrugged. "I started to after the attack on the Keep. It would have all been lost if the fire went any further. I wouldn't be able to replace any of it." There were sketches from the paper of us from our wedding, clippings of old news items, a picture of Jowan and I with our friend Bridget that she drew when we were apprentices, and a dozen other tiny mementos.

"So…" Anders said, looking at Fiona. "Does this make you the dowager? Queen Mother? Something like that? Should I bow?"

"_That_ is your response?"

"What? You want me to ask you where you've been all these years instead? Shake you for not coming forward sooner when it would mean everything in the world to him? I'm sure she's already done all that, and Maggie's much better at making people feel guilty than I am. I suppose I could ask if King Maric was a good kisser. Kind of curious about that one, actually." He looked at me. "Hey, you know what this means? We're _not_ the most irresponsible Wardens in Thedas… she had sex in the Deep Roads, too!"

She stared at him, mouth open. Turning to me Fiona said "you _married_ this man?"

"What?" I said. "I'm kind of curious, too. I'm just too polite to ask. I've never kissed a king."

She muttered something that, I'm pretty sure, was 'damned mages.' "He looks… mean. Angry," she said, picking up the wanted poster.

"Everyone looks mean on wanted posters. They were trying to make us look like the sorts who would commit treason and regicide, you know. A smile wouldn't help that." I hopped up on the bed, sitting next to Anders, and showing her a different picture. "See, doesn't this make you want to tell him? Look at that face. Can you stand knowing you have the power to make him happy and haven't yet?" I held up one of the more absurd pictures someone sent me after the blight. I don't actually recall us running through the streets of Denerim with him carrying a big-eyed orphan under each arm while I held a basket of mabari puppies, saving them all from the darkspawn horde while smiling brightly. I suppose it was artistic license. Very excessive artistic license.

"That's a good one," Anders said. "Do you have the one that shows him holding you in the air so the two of you could rescue a kitten from a tree?"

"I do!" I exclaimed, pulling it out. "See!" I passed it to Fiona.

"_This_ is how people view the Grey Wardens in Ferelden?"

"Orphan saving puppy and kitten rescuers?" I said. "Pretty much, yes."

"_Elite_ orphan saving puppy and kitten rescuers, thank you very much," Anders corrected me. Turning to Fiona again he asked "so are you going to come back to Ferelden with us? We can go right to Denerim, it would only take an extra day on the same boat."

"Did you somehow not notice I'm an elf, a mage, _and_ Orlesian?" she said to Anders.

"No…" he gasped, face twisted in mock surprise. "All of that _completely_ escaped my attention. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a busy day of drooling on myself and babbling incoherently to get on with." He laughed. "Come on, he thinks his mother was a servant girl in a palace, that's public knowledge in Ferelden." Fiona didn't say anything. Anders sighed. "You ever been in a palace? All the servant girls are elves. _All_ of them. Most of the country assumes his mother was an elf already."

"Good point!" I said. "I never thought of that."

"You know, Aidan was just telling me not long ago that when he was visiting his cousin the big gossip in the capital was that Alistair had done so much for the elves because his mother was one. Everyone in the alienage accepts that as fact, and more than a few humans as well."

Fiona sighed. "I'm still Orlesian!"

"War ended almost forty years ago," I countered. "You barely even have an accent anymore, anyways. And you're a Grey Warden, that'll balance it. Elite orphan saving puppy and kitten rescuers, remember?"

She held her right hand up and summoned a small flame, gesturing towards it with the left. Anders and I each held our right hands up automatically. I summoned ice, he went with lightning. "How funny," Anders said. "We all have different defaults. You know, I've _never_ met anyone who defaulted to the earth spells. Not even one."

"Me neither," I said. "Might be harder to catch that, though." Fiona sighed, looking at us like we were idiots.

"Let me tell you," Anders said. "Being a mage isn't such a horrible thing anymore. Not in Ferelden. The _Grand Cleric's_ mother is a mage, too. She sought her out and invites her to formal functions, and calls her mother in public with the old lady standing there in her robes with a staff looking as magey as can be and everything. And you can always, you know, wear normal clothes. No one would notice." He sat up straighter, staring at her more seriously. "My mother was an elf, too. I don't care, I _never _cared, and finding out that someone did was always a good way to weed out people I wouldn't want anything to do with anyways. I haven't seen her in more than twenty years, since I was taken to the Circle. She died over ten years ago. I would give almost anything to see her just one more time, even for only an hour. I'll never get to tell her I'm a Grey Warden. I'll never get to tell her I actually did something with myself. I'll never get to introduce her to my wife. I'll never get to tell her I'm happy, or that I miss her, or that I still think about her and love her. I'm actually rather jealous Alistair has that chance. I'd kill for it." He sighed and I squeezed his hand. "I honestly don't think he'll care. I really don't. But… let _him_ decide if it's too big a risk to make public. He's a grown man of sound mind. Well, most of the time. Don't even go to Denerim. Come stay with us, no one would ever question the king visiting Maggie. No one outside the order would ever need to know you were even there, and we can just tell the others that you're visiting from Weisshaupt to discuss super-secret things with the Commander."

"I'm not going to decide this tonight," she said. "This isn't just my life, or even mine and his. His wife, his children… this will change things for all of them. I need to think about it more."

"I understand," I said. "I'm glad you're not dismissing it out of hand. If you need longer than the time we're here you can even write me if you decide to go ahead and I'll set everything up." I dug through the papers. "Here," I said, passing her a small drawing of Alistair's wedding. "You can have this. It's a recent one."

"That's his wife?"

"That's her. Elissa Cousland-Theirin, Queen Consort of Ferelden," I said. "Duncan actually wanted to recruit her to the Wardens but her father put his food down. Most of her family was massacred during the blight, she was the only one to escape, and only because her parents stayed behind to buy her time to get away from their castle. Her brother lived because he was at Ostagar, he's Teyrn now. His wife and little boy were killed, though."

"Maker's breath," Fiona said. "That's…"

"Horrifying? Yeah," I nodded. "I mention it so you know that he can't even consider her family to be his since, save her brother, they were all _slaughtered_. I think she'd be just as happy, I really do. She's just as strong a supporter of mage and elf equality issues as he is, maybe more if such a thing is possible."

Fiona excused herself before long, looking at the picture as she walked out.

"So are _we_ going to tell him?" Anders said as soon as the door was closed.

"No," I sighed, packing away my papers and pictures. "How would he feel if we did and she never came clean? Knowing she was alive and didn't want to meet him. That's how he would see it, no matter what her reasons. That she just didn't want to."

"He would," Anders agreed, locking the door. "I feel bad for her." I looked at him with curiosity and he shrugged. "She must really hate herself to think her own son would reject her, to the point that she had him lied to about who his mother was. It's sad. No one should ever feel like less than a person, but she clearly seems to."

"Yes… now that you say it, I think you're right. I didn't look at it that way. Although I do think part is fear, and she's using those as excuses." I sighed, leaning against him as he sat back down on the bed. "From what I know, though, elves here are treated even worse than they were in Ferelden before Alistair became king. And I was pretty sodding disgusted with how they were treated in Ferelden before, so I can't even imagine…"

Anders smiled at me, falling back to the pillows. "As I've said before, why can't someone just put _you_ in charge of everything?"

"Because we don't get enough time together that doesn't involve work or debilitating work-related injuries as it is?"

"Hm, yes, there is that," he laughed. "Well, we've got some time right now…"

"So it seems," I agreed, sliding into his arms. Anders raised a hand, I felt a brief flare of magic as the room went dark.

The next day we sat with the Antivans for breakfast. The Dalish mage was apparently part of their group. "Do you know," Marko said through a mouthful of fruit, "I have you to thank for half of our new recruits."

"Oh?" I said, surprised. "What do you mean?"

He nodded. "You're the only person to go against the Crows and win… twice, no less. We had no small number of unhappy Crows rushing to join our numbers when they heard Grey Wardens had bested one of them and convinced the defeated assassin to fight on their side. The only way out is to ally yourself with someone more powerful, and thanks to you it's now common knowledge among them that the Wardens are one such group, _and_ that the Wardens will not turn someone away for a past as an assassin." He laughed, pointing at one of his tattoos. "You would think this would tell them all they needed to know! Besides, once we become Wardens the Crows do not want us back. Assassins who can't sleep through a night quietly and eat three times what a normal person needs are more trouble than they are worth. I suspect, too, that Crow leadership knows they could never stand to the combined force of all Wardens, should they force a confrontation."

"I'll have to tell Zevran that the next time I'm in Denerim," I said. "He'll be happy to hear it, I think."

"Zevran _Arainai?"_ he said. I nodded and Marko burst into laughter. "Oh, that is nice. I didn't know who it was they sent after you. _That_ they managed to keep very quiet. So it was you who took out that bastard Taliesen?"

"I think he actually made the killing blow. But I had frozen him solid first. It was a team effort."

"Ah, so long as he's dead, the son of a bitch." He chuckled again. "Zevran and I were in the same cell. What is he doing these days?"

I laughed. "He's now Ser Zevran, Alistair's head of special investigations. You could get a letter to him care of the royal palace, I'm sure." I wasn't quite sure how open Zevran was about also being head of the Crows, or what Marko's feelings on it would be, so sticking to his approved title seemed wiser.

"Ser? Ser?" Marko all but fell off his chair laughing. "Oh, that is _fantastic_. As though he could even _spell _the word gentleman. I'm sure he never gave you a moment's peace, either." I looked at him blankly. "Years back, this is probably more than ten years ago, just after we became Crows, he got a contract for a mage and managed to bed her. Ever since then it was mage this, mage that, on and on he went, telling us all we haven't truly lived until we've seen what someone who could 'control the very elements in their fingertips' was capable of."

"You should _see_ the look on your face," Anders laughed. I was fairly sure I could _hear _my teeth grinding. "Oh, calm down," he said, between fits of hysterics. "Like you didn't just go after him just because you have a thing for stylish blonds. Besides, you _haven't_ lived until you've seen what someone who can control the elements is capable of."

"Well, yeah, that is true," I admitted.

"I have since learned he was completely right," Marko said, putting his arm around the shoulders of the Dalish woman. She cursed at him in Antivan, a word I recognized but couldn't remember the translation of, and playfully hit his shoulder, smiling. "I suspect most of it was simply to annoy us. Your kind are rare outside the Circle of Magi, so of course none of us could match him easily. It was something we could never top." He shrugged. "That was common in the Crows. _Everything_ was a competition. Frankly, I am quite glad to be rid of that attitude."

"So Wardens in Antiva don't compete? You don't keep track of how many darkspawn everyone kills?" Tobias asked him.

"Oh, of course we do, but it is all in fun. Two friends trying to outdo each other, that sort of thing. Unlike the Crows, I don't kill anyone who comes in last too often."

"You know, being a Warden gets even better every time I hear about the alternatives," Tobias mused.

After breakfast I met with the other commanders and Fiona, who was apparently officially representing the First Warden. We discussed the issues I'd had with the talking darkspawn for some time. "I _think_ we may have reached something near a conclusion to that," I said finally. "After we took out their base in the cave I haven't seen any more problems. Of course, if any remain and are in hiding…" I shrugged. "How would we ever know. That they may know where the Old Gods are still bothers me."

"They can sense them," Alain said. "They always could. It is, I believe, as your Nathaniel said when I visited Ferelden. This may change nothing."

"Yes," Augustus said. I could see why he spoke Tevinter to us immediately. His accent was very thick, and he didn't seem particularly comfortable with the common tongue. "Darkspawn and map reading… I can't even imagine it. They go with, um, sense? No… that isn't right… um… _sagacitas?_"

"Instinct," I provided for everyone else.

"Exactly!" he replied. "Thank you."

"I cannot believe Utha was still with him, after all these years," Fiona mused. "Was he so convincing? I didn't think so back then." She leaned back, sipping from a glass of water and looking lost in thought. "It was so strange. Duncan, Kell and I, we didn't trust him, not for a moment. But Utha, Genevieve… they accepted it so readily. I could never understand what they saw in his plan." She sighed. "It was a different plan then. Not to expose the darkspawn to Grey Warden taint, but to taint all of mankind- turn everyone into a Grey Warden."

I grimaced. "That is a _horrid_ idea. I mean, even putting the massive casualties aside… mankind would die out in a generation if _everyone_ was tainted! No one would have children!"

"Yes," she said. "That was my thought, even then. Maybe they didn't stop to think about it, maybe the idea simply never crossed their minds." She shrugged. "Perhaps it came to me simply because the subject had been in my thoughts, having learned about our problems with conceiving only just before leaving Orlais for Ferelden." She gave me an ironic smile.

"I don't think he was lying about his plan, or what he hoped the outcome would be," I said. "But, he made the archdemon, and we all know what happened there. He made the Mother, and she almost leveled the city of Amaranthine and my Keep, thousands were killed, and we still haven't fully recovered. He admitted they were mistakes, but not that it was _his_ fault. He would have done it again. _That_ is why I killed him. Being free of the blights would be wonderful, but if it comes at the expense of smaller blight-like attacks capable of leveling a large city, led by a darkspawn capable of reasoning and occurring every couple years? I don't know if that trade off is worthwhile."

"Even if there were no more _mistakes… _a free darkspawn is no better," Fiona said. "A free darkspawn would want to move to the surface, perhaps. It would still spread plague, it would still need to kidnap women to reproduce. I hardly think the call of the Old Gods being silenced would also cut off their urge to procreate. They would still eat people, perhaps still attack them on sight." She paused. "It may even be worse, since they would do all this while capable of reasoning and thinking, making them a more formidable foe. I see no reason to _free_ them. I want to _destroy_ them."

"Yes," I said. "That is it exactly. I didn't think of it at the time, I was only seeing the immediate repercussions, but I've had the same thoughts in the years since whenever I questioned my decision. I'll never regret it."

I told them about the offer Morrigan made to me, explaining who her 'mother' was and that there was a good chance she, or something similar, would be around for the next blight with another offer. Not surprisingly, everyone agreed with my assessment. There was no way to be sure the child she wanted would attract darkspawn like an Old God in its dragon form, but it was simply too big a risk to chance it.

After the meeting Anders and I decided to go out and explore the city while the warriors were tied up learning how to use Templar skills. Remembering how different attitudes would be in Orlais, we wore light armor and blades, leaving the mage trappings back at the Warden compound.

"So how was your big meeting?" he asked as we sat on a bench in a small park. I finished the cookie I had been eating, thinking that Leliana had been completely right about these things, and swallowed before answering.

"Interesting," I said. "Apparently I'm one of the most lenient commanders in Thedas, though. Alain's close, but he's a bit stricter on behavior in off hours. Keeping up the proper public image and so on. The commanders from Nevarra and Rivain were horrified by some of what I allow." That being, specifically, philandering, fraternization, married Wardens, married Wardens whose marriage itself was fraternization, drinking, binge drinking, and Oghren-level drinking. Especially when they realized we actually kept a small brewery in the keep for our own use.

"They don't think different methods might work better in some places?" he asked. "Although really, I think they can hold their opinions until they end a blight and defeat a full siege on a city less than two years later with only four people."

Chuckling I said "that's what Augustus told them. Although he's as lenient as I am. Once Fiona agreed they all stopped criticizing me, though."

"The Anderfels speak and we all jump," Anders laughed. "She say anything else about…?"

I shook my head. "No, but I'll ask her once more before we leave." Anders nodded at that, agreeing with me. He put an arm around my shoulder, I leaned against him, watching the well-dressed people of Jader pass by.

"Everyone seems so fancy here," he mused. "Some of them make mage robes look _subtle_. I can't imagine people dress like that just to go about their daily business. I'm tempted to buy a few things for the next time someone makes us dress up."

I heard the distinctive sound of someone walking in heavy plate from behind us. Turning to look, assuming it would be one of the Wardens, my eyes went wide seeing more than a dozen Templars only a few feet behind us. I jumped to my feet just in time for the effects of a smite to knock me back to my knees. The last thing I saw looking up was the pommel of a sword rushing towards my head.

* * *

_dun-dun-dun!_  
_I will say nothing more... _  
_Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers. You are awesomesauce personified._


	75. Templars are the epitome of hospitality

_Fair waring, things get worse before they get better. Way worse. So, be advised, potentially triggering, etc._

* * *

When I came to I was blindfolded, my ankles tied together with my arms behind my back. I knew Anders was nearby, the familiar feeling of another Warden's presence, the sense of another mage, a hint of his cologne, and under it the indescribable smell of him I'd become used to being constantly surrounded by.

I could hear the sound of multiple horses, we were clearly in a wagon of some kind. I had no idea if we were being constantly guarded or if they had simply thrown us in the back. Cold metal pinched the skin around my wrists and left a hollow feeling deep inside me. Magic suppressing manacles, a favorite of the templar after a runaway mage.

Deciding to take the risk on the hopes that our captors assumed we were no longer a threat and thus weren't watching us that closely, I tried to scoot towards him as quietly as possible. When I was close enough to feel the heat off his body I all but sobbed with relief. Until then I wasn't entirely sure if he was _alive_. Groping blindly behind me, I tried to reach his hands. After a moment I realized he was doing the same as his fingers brushed against mine. I went still and Anders grabbed my hand. I held tight to him, crying silently.

I heard a voice that sounded almost amused make a comment in Orlesian not long after and felt something hit me in the stomach. Probably a boot, since the sound came from far overhead. Anders, hearing me cry out in pain, started to struggle against his bonds. I could feel him thrashing near me, but he wasn't saying anything.

There were the sounds of metal on flesh and a muffled grunt of pain. With a start I realized they must have had Anders gagged. He might have been conscious before me and arguing. Of course, realizing what they were doing to him, I began struggling as well, trying to kick out at anything near me. My feet were tied together, but not tied _down_. I apparently had some success since I connected with something, followed by a shout and the loud clang of metal rattling together, followed swiftly by the wagon drawing to a hasty stop. Someone grabbed me by the hair, I tried to twist enough to bite them, not caring about the pulling. My head was slammed against the floor and darkness fell once again.

The blindfold was gone the next time I woke. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw I was in a small room, just wide enough for the barred door. One wall was metal bars, the other two stone. _First in a row of cells_, I thought quickly. Runes were carved around the doorway, familiar. I tried to place them. After a few seconds I realized they were the same as the ones carved outside the phylactery chamber at the Circle of Magi in Ferelden. Spells wouldn't work here. Normal spells, at least. Blood magic _might_, but trying it and having it fail would be an instant death. I'd rather try and come up with a more secure plan.

The runes meant this cell was specifically made for mages. We were in a Chantry somewhere, or perhaps the Orlesian Circle or a monastery.

Anders was close, but it was too dark to see where. Closing my eyes, I listened closely. I could hear only one person breathing, ragged and irregular.

"Anders?" I whispered.

There was a shuffling sound not far away and, a few seconds later, he was leaning against the bars separating our two cells.

"Did you just wake up?" he asked, sounding nervous. I moved closer to him. One of my legs was chained to the wall but the chain was long enough for me to navigate all of the tiny cell. I gasped when I was close enough to see him. His nose was broken, both eyes blackened.

"Yeah," I whispered, grabbing his hand through the bars. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm just fantastic," he said, matching my volume. "Orleasian templars are the very epitome of hospitality."

"They really are," I said. "We should find out who does their decorating. Have them duplicate this at home."

He raised an eyebrow. "At home?"

"Stop it," I demanded. "We'll get out of this. The other Wardens will come for us, or… I don't know, we'll come up with something."

"I don't even know where _here_ is," Anders said. "I heard them saying we were only stopping for the night, though." I silently thanked the Maker for Anders' genius with languages. I didn't speak more than a dozen words of Orlesian, I wouldn't have known what was going on if I'd been the one to hear it.

"Where are they taking us? Did they say?" He gave me a dark look. I sighed. "This isn't the time to break anything to me gently. Tell me _everything_, you've been conscious longer than I have."

"They're taking us to Val Royeaux," he said, sighing. I made a squeaking sound. That was pretty much the absolute worst case scenario.

"And?"

"Well… since I'm a heretic I'll apparently be beheaded. Publicly."

"Maker's breath," I gasped. "They want to _behead_ us? What is this, the Storm age?" Ferelden hadn't even practiced beheading in centuries!

Anders kissed my fingertips. "Not us, darling. _Me_. You're not just a heretic. You're also a maleficar."

I winced. "And that means…?"

"Burnt at the stake." I don't think Ferelden _ever_ did anything like that. I tried to imagine a more unpleasant death and found I really couldn't come up with anything.

"This is insane!" I said. "They can't do this! We're Grey Wardens. We're Ferelden nobility. We're not Circle mages. The Chantry can't just… execute private citizens. Grey Wardens aren't even _mages _under the law. They only have that power over their own Templars and Circle mages."

"In Ferelden, sure," Anders said. "Apparently things are a bit different in Orlais." He put his hand to his mouth in thought. "Or, they simply don't care and will claim we're just two out of control mages."

"Do they _do_ this here? Burn and behead people in public? It's so… barbaric."

"It's been many years, apparently," Anders said. "I overheard the templars' talking. Apparently we're personally responsible for the current wave of heresy gripping Ferelden. The Divine wants to make a statement with us, I guess."

"Oh lovely," I sighed. "So… any thoughts?"

"Well," Anders began. "No one was with us to see us get taken. Since we were trying to be subtle no one in the area might have realized we're Grey Wardens. The others may not even know _what_ happened to us."

"Someone knows," I said. "They're Grey Wardens, they'll get scouts on it and figure it out." I shrugged. "And that's if they don't automatically suspect the Chantry just because, really, who else wants us dead so badly?"

"True," Anders admitted. "But that's also assuming they'll get here in time."

I bit my lip. He had a point. "Well, we'll have to figure out a way to get ourselves out," I said. Sighing I looked around the cell. "Look, I know this is bad. And we don't have good odds. But I'd much rather die trying to get out of it go to my own execution without a fight."

"True," he agreed. "If I'm going to die here I'd rather it be making their lives more difficult and ruining their big plans. I have no intention of calmly setting my neck on the block so the bastards can use me to prove a point."

"Right," I said, trying to think. My head felt fuzzy, probably because of how many head injuries I'd suffered recently. "They're used to… normal mages, right? Weak. Helpless without magic." Anders nodded. "I don't think anyone outside Ferelden, other than people _we've _taught, know that both of us are perfectly capable with a sword. You're strong enough to break someone's jaw with a punch, even without magic. I couldn't do that, but I have kicked a hole in a wall or kicked down a door more than once, so I know I can cause some damage with my legs."

We went silent as a door opened not far away, metal clanging against the wall. A templar in full armor and helm walked over, sliding a plate under each of our doors. "Change your mind yet?" he said to Anders in a heavy accent.

"Drop dead," Anders replied, giving him the finger.

The templar only laughed. "It isn't my neck on the line. I'd rather you not take the offer. I'll enjoy watching you die. Oh, and so you know… she's going first. Don't worry, though. We'll make sure to get you taken care of before the maleficar's eyes melt. Wouldn't want her to miss it." He was gone a moment later, the door slamming shut with the sound of a lock clicking into place behind him.

"I really hate him," Anders said. "It would be just lovely if he would suffer a slow and painful death. You know, I never would have thought someone could make the Templars in Ferelden seem reasonable, yet here we are." He chuckled darkly. "Maker's breath, some of them make _Cullen_ look reasonable."

I examined the food. "It's poisoned," I said after a moment.

"You sure?"

"Magebane. Not a lot, not enough to kill, but definitely enough to keep us in a fog and unable to cast a spell. I don't think they'll try and kill us this soon, we're worth more alive. Smells like cinnamon, yes?"

"It does," Anders agreed.

"You think they go through the trouble of seasoning the gruel served to condemned prisoners?"

Anders picked his dish up, carrying it to the front of the cell, where he flung it against the far wall. I did the same after a moment.

"What was that templar asking you about?" I said after a moment.

"Nothing," Anders said. "Don't worry about it."

"It was _something_," I said. "Please tell me. This is bad enough as it is, I don't want anything kept from me."

"It doesn't make any difference," he said.

"Please," I asked again.

Anders sighed and grabbed my hand through the bars again. "They tried to buy me off. If I would renounce heresy in public and confirm that you're a maleficar they promised not to kill me."

"Anders!" I said quickly. "Do it. Why should both of us die here? You could tell everyone what happened, too. Maybe they'd get here in time."

He gave me a grim smile. "You _believe_ them? Since I don't. And the deal wasn't quite as nice as that, either. I'd have to stay until your execution, which I would have to _watch_, and then be delivered to the Circle of Magi." He made a face. "Assuming they don't simply kill me in secret. Having your husband condemn you in public would be quite a boon for them. But once I do that, I suspect I'd end up dead in a mysterious escape attempt on the way to the Circle so they don't have to deal with lingering problems from the Grey Wardens for the rest of my life."

I sighed. He was completely right. For a moment I had a hope that Anders, at least, could survive this.

"I saw a little of the outside," Anders said after a moment. "We're in a small town. Middle of nowhere. If we're going to try anything…"

"Better to wait," I finished.

"Yes," he said. "Although at the rate they've been beating on both of us I don't know if we'll _make it_ to Val Royeaux. You've been out for close to a full day longer than I was now, and I have no idea how long I was unconscious before that." Anders sighed. "But… if the Divine does want to make some sort of… public statement of this, not just kill us in silence, I have to assume we will at least live that long."

"Security will probably be tighter there," I said. "But… we could blend into the crowd, maybe get a ship back to Jader or even home. Get a message to the others. We would get caught again quickly if we tried any of that in some small town."

We fell asleep leaning against the bars, as close together as we could manage. "Love you, Maggie," Anders whispered.

"Love you, too, Anders" I said. "We'll get out of this."

"I know," he replied. He didn't sound like he believed me. But my empty promise wasn't exactly convincing, either.

Our food contained that cinnamon-like odor of magebane the next morning, so again we tossed it out of the cells. I could hear rain outside, perhaps that's why we hadn't left yet. When we didn't eat our lunches, either, the templars made a joke about us trying to starve ourselves to death.

"I hope we do," I snapped. "And I hope you have to explain to the Divine that she doesn't get her execution since you beat and poisoned the prisoners to death."

He punched me in the face for my troubles.

They sent two templars to force feed us at dinner. My arms and legs were bound to a chair so I couldn't attack. Because I wouldn't sit still the templar had to take his gauntlet off to force my mouth open without simply shattering my jaw in the process. I managed to bite the tip of his finger off, spitting it back in his face. I couldn't remember much after that. When I woke up my ribs hurt and I was coughing up blood. But the next meal I was conscious for arrived without the smell of magebane.

The blindfolds were replaced the day after I woke, as well as our arms being bound. Not our legs, initially, but that happened as soon as they shoved us into a wagon. Listening to our guards, I determined there were only two of them. It wasn't the wagon we were in before, this was a new one, much smaller.

After what felt like hours I began to hear a lot more noise around us. We might have been approaching a large settlement. There were Chantry bells in the distance. Very, very loud Chantry bells. I suspected we could even be nearing Val Royeaux. Reaching back I started to try and pick apart the knots in the rope holding Anders' wrists together. My nails were longer than his, it would be easier for me to manage his with my own wrists still bound than for him to get mine.

Realizing what I was doing Anders attempted to shift his arms so I could get a better angle. I almost had his ropes loose enough for him to slip his hands free when we came to a stop. Freezing, I paused, not sure what was going on.

I could hear someone shouting in Orlesian, and felt another sharp kick to my stomach, accompanied by something slamming into my wrists. _It was worth trying_, I thought to myself as the templars began to beat me again. I was almost glad when I slipped into darkness once more.

I was lapsing in and out of consciousness as they carried me into a building. I saw an enormous Chantry, the belltower reaching into the clouds, not far away. So we weren't in the Grand Cathedral. At one point I was being carried past men in templar uniforms or chantry robes, Anders being marched ahead of me with a sword against his back. A monastery, then. Or a barracks of some kind, for templars.

I groaned, slowly opening my eyes. Glancing around, I took stock of the surroundings. Stone ceiling, stone floor, bars ahead of me, bars on either side. Someone was praying near me.

_"Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me." _It took me a moment to realize it was Anders. His voice was strained and rough. It also became obvious after a moment that he was crying.

"Anders?" I whispered. I sat up, body aching. A barred window behind me set into a stone wall was revealing night. It looked to be at ground level, and was near the ceiling of my cell. I was in something that looked like mage robes, but lacked even the most basic of enchantments. The fact that they were the color of blood wasn't lost on me.

"Thank the Maker," he replied quickly, voice still sounding strange. Anders stood up from where he had been kneeling in the cell next to mine, looking miserable. "You've been out for too long," he said. "Almost four days this time." He, too, was in the strange robes, although his were ripped off above the waist. It looked like he had made a sling for his arm out of the top half.

I stood to walk over to the bars, wincing in pain. Lifting the skirt of the rough clothes I had on gingerly I saw a layer of bruises covering my thighs. Flashes of the last moments after I had been thrown in my cell began to come back to me. A templar with dark hair, being grabbed by the throat, clothes being ripped… _oh._

"I… I couldn't stop him," Anders said, sounding broken. "There was nothing I could do. I tried. I swear to you, I tried. But I just… I'm sorry." He met me at the bars and reached through them, wrapping his uninjured arm around me. "I'm so sorry," he repeated.

"It's not your fault," I said. "I… I don't remember anything. I'll be all right." I wasn't entirely sure of that last part, and I was starting to remember more than I wanted to, but since the first part _was_ completely true I didn't want to worry him with the rest. Not now, at any rate. "What happened to your arm?"

He looked down at the sling. "Just a minor break. I had a disagreement with our hosts about how I preferred my wife to be treated." I sighed, putting my hand on his cheek. Now that I was closer I could see why his voice was so rough and quiet. Brutal red welts encircled his neck, another marked the skin of his forehead.

"Your neck!" I gasped out.

"It's nothing," he said. I gave him a look that made it clear I didn't believe him.

He gave a sigh of reluctance. "It was so I couldn't look away." Gasping in horror I grabbed at him through the bars, trying to find some way to hold him despite the metal between us. "Tomorrow is our execution." Well, that would explain the 'robes.' They would want us to look as much like mages as possible for this.

"No," I said, stepping back. "No. No." I shook my head. "We will _not_ die here. After all we've survived to end up killed far from home by a bunch of religious maniacs? No! Not now. Maker's breath, I didn't live through the blight so a bunch of templars could slaughter me like an animal. Not to mention how Alistair will react. This could start a war! What gives them the right?"

He sighed. "I don't really see how we can prevent it. I plan to go as mad as I can the moment they open our cells to drag us out, but short of that I can't think of a plan. I've examined every inch of my cell, there isn't a place the wards don't work, there isn't a wobbly bar, there's nothing. In fact, it looks like the mortar and bars were recently repaired in a few places. There's a guard at the end of the hall and I'd really prefer _he_ stay down there." I winced at his tone of voice and, almost without thinking, took a peek. Seeing dark hair, I looked away quickly. "We can't _force_ them to let us out." Then it struck me. I _could. _Well, maybe. But it was worth a try. It was better than just giving up.

"I have an idea." Granted, Anders may never want to look at me again after. But if it worked he would live. If it didn't they'd kill me immediately, instead of waiting for some grand public statement. That was also a plus, really. "I love you," I said. "I won't let you die in this place."

He kissed me through the bars. "I love you too. So much."

"We're getting out of here," I said, nodding.

"What's your idea?" he asked. I looked at him and Anders must have caught my plan right away from the expression on my face. His face grim, he nodded. "Yes. Do it."

"It… it may not work. I don't know how much these wards block, but it's all I can think of. I need to try."

"Better than giving up without a fight," Anders agreed, jaw set in a grim line.

"I need your help," I said. "I don't have a knife."

"Tell me what you need," he said.

I walked to the back of my cell, where we would be harder to see, and pushed my arm through the bars. "Bite down. Hard. Don't stop, no matter how much it hurts me. Not until I'm bleeding. I'll need…" I made a face. "I'll need a _lot_ of blood. That's what Augustus said. _A lot_ of blood. I won't be able to do it myself, I think my jaw's fractured." He nodded, kissed the skin on my inner wrist, and sank his teeth into me. I winced, biting my lip. Human teeth are useful for many things, but biting through raw living flesh is not one of them. It took what felt like ages, and it _hurt_. I covered my mouth with my other hand to muffle the cries of pain I couldn't hold in. Tears poured down my cheeks. Finally Anders released my arm, spitting something on the floor. His face was covered in blood. "Now we have to get the guard closer," I said, immediately beginning the spell.

"All right," he said. Walking to the front of his cell Anders began to scream. "Help!" he shouted. "She's bleeding out! Help!" I began whispering the words of the spell as he did this, hearing the guard's footsteps drawing closer.

"Be _quiet_," came an accented voice. "What's it matter, you're dead at dawn anyways." An annoyed sounding templar came into view. I breathed a sigh of relief seeing he hadn't bothered to put on his helm, and sucked in a breath when he was close enough for me to see his face. Pushing the memory back, I focused on the spell. I'd _read_ this spell, but never tried it. Why would I, after all? Now I had to hope it would work. Not just that, I had to hope it would work on the first try. Catching a glimpse of Anders' blood-covered face he said something in Orlesian. "What did you do, you madman?" he added in the common tongue, walking closer to my cell. _Closer, closer,_ I thought, starting to become slightly dizzy from the blood loss. "Oh no—" he muttered, seeing the mist surrounding me. I reached my hand up, splashing my blood across his face.

Pinning him in my gaze I muttered the last words of the spell, reached towards his mind, and _pushed_. His face went slack. "Open our cells," I said. He nodded, shuffling over stiffly and unlocking first my door then Anders'. I sagged with relief, nearly interrupting the spell. "Very good," I said once I regained control. "Now get our belongings."

"Yes," he said, turning and walking away. We waited, standing in the hall. Anders had a hand on my back. I could hear a loud crashing noise from the opposite direction of where he went. Thinking about it too much would break the spell, though. We were unarmed and there were warding runes covering almost every square inch of the place. Losing the spell was as good as death.

"Here he comes," Anders whispered. I nodded, trying to focus. The templar returned, eyes glassy, and handed us a burlap sack and Anders' sword. I had to hope my daggers were in the bag. Anders took everything.

"Where is the nearest exit?" I said. He pointed towards the direction of the crash. "Give me your keys," I said. I paused, trying to decide what to do with him.

"Release the spell," Anders said to me. I gave him a curious look but, seeing my dagger in his hand, did it.

"What?" the templar said. "Where… how did we?" He saw the dagger in Anders' hand then and cursed, stepping back.

"Yes," Anders said, stepping towards him. "You fear justice. With good reason."

"You do not dare," he said. "I'm a templar of the Chantry."

"You're a monster," Anders replied. He stabbed the man and I couldn't stop myself from smiling with satisfaction as he twisted the dagger. "That's for what you did to my wife," he said quietly. The templar howled in pain, cupping his hands between his legs. Blood poured out from between his fingers. "This is for _making me_ _watch_," Anders said, slashing him quickly across his eyes. "Have fun explaining why we're gone," he added.

I walked over and spit on him. Grabbing him by the hair I slamming his head against the ground several times, just as he'd done to me, and stepped back when I was sure he was unconscious. "I'm not changing into my armor in front of him if he's awake," I explained. "And, well, I wanted to hurt him."

"Understandable," Anders said, already going through the bag. "I probably should have let you do that, you have more reason than I did. I wouldn't worry about him watching, though. He won't be looking at much anymore." I glanced over and saw that the damage Anders had caused to the man's eyes was far more severe than I thought at first glance. Good.

"It's for the best," I said, accepting my gloves from him. "I would have killed him. Now he'll suffer at the Chantry's hands, too. And he won't be able to do the same to anyone else."

He handed me my black leather armor. I pulled off the fake robes and put my familiar armor back on. When Anders turned his attention back to the bag I quickly cleaned between my legs with the robe and tossed it on top of the unconscious templar. I felt completely disgusting, but calling attention to it would just call more attention to what happened and make both of us upset. Getting out had to come first. I had no idea what happened to my underwear but that was the least of my concerns. Once I had the rest of my armor on I waited for Anders. He stood up and helped me buckle in before handing me my daggers. Putting them on, I quickly did up his buckles and grabbed the keys.

Being careful to avoid his broken arm, I wrapped my own arms around Anders. Indifferent to his injury, he crushed me against his chest with his free hand. We stood there in silence until I heard the templar groan. Anders released me and I walked over to the man, kicking him sharply in the head.

"Let's get out of here," Anders said. I started to head down the hall, aware all the time of the large amount of blood pouring from my wrist. He stopped me and doubled back, grabbing his discarded robes and ripping part off. I helped him wrap my injury up until we could get out of the reach of these wards. "I don't know how much blood they would need to track us," he said, "but better to be safe." I nodded, scuffing my boots over all the places where my blood had already fallen, making sure it was ground into the floor and covered in filth.

Staying as far in shadow as we could, Anders and I headed towards the exit indicated by the templar.

I put my ear to the door. I couldn't hear anything on the other side. Opening it slowly I glanced around. It was almost completely dark. Once the door clicked shut behind me I realized it wasn't as empty as I'd thought. The quiet sound of breathing surrounded us. It was a bedroom of some kind. I dropped to the ground, gesturing for Anders to do the same. If someone woke up they would have to move much further to see us. Once we were down I realized the flaw in my plan. Anders couldn't exactly crawl with one arm in a sling. Shifting so my shoulder was under his, he nodded, understanding. I tried to ignore the sharp pain that went through my chest with the pressure of even a little of his weight on me. Leaning against each other, we slowly worked our way across the room. It took almost an hour to cross those few yards, and all the while I was terrified someone would wake up and see us. At the opposite wall I felt along the bottom for a door. No light came from the crack at the bottom, and it was just as silent as this room had been. I reached up and slowly turned the knob, peeking into the other side. It was a hallway, and, from what I could see, empty.

"Where is this damned exit?" Anders hissed softly now that we were safely alone.

"I don't know!" I said. "Heal your arm, though."

"They won't sense the magic and know exactly where we are?"

"Your only weapon is a two handed sword," I pointed out. I had the same thought, but having him unable to defend himself was a more frightening prospect.

"Point," he agreed, quickly casting the spell and discarding the sling. Before I could say anything he began casting spells on me. My wrist, my head, my ribs. I felt a thousand small agonies vanish one by one.

"Let's not press our luck," I said reluctantly. At least my head had cleared and I could take a full breath without feeling like I was being punched in the chest or coughing up blood.

"Right," Anders agreed.

As we reached the end of the hall I could hear what I was sure were the noises of a battle ahead of us. "Fighting?" I said, confused.

"Could just be a sparring match," Anders warned. "Maybe their practice room is near here."

"Maybe," I agreed. It wasn't in the next room, at any rate, and there was nowhere we could hide in this hall should someone come across us, so after a brief moment of silent debate we pressed on.

After slipping inside I slowly closed the door behind us, hoping the hinges would remain silent. Just before it shut completely I caught the reflection of light from the hall off a set of pale eyes.

I pulled out my daggers, tensing. Anders drew his sword and I breathed a sigh of relief that he'd fixed his arm.

"I know you're there," I called out. "Show yourself or I swear I'll burn everything in the room to find you."

* * *

_Cue angry emails in 5... 4... 3... 2... and go! Seriously, I am fully expecting to be roasted alive for this chapter. I suppose I'll deserve it.  
Thanks to everyone who reviews. Sorry, the fates decreed there is another cliffhanger.  
_


	76. Cut down on the massive head trauma

No one responded to my demand. Peering into the darkness I conjured a flame over my hand to demonstrate that I was serious. I heard a relieved voice say "Boss?"

A candle was lit and I shook off the spell. Tobias stared at us in shock. "What are you doing here?" I gasped.

"We're here to rescue you!" Tobias said, gesturing behind himself. "What do you think we're doing here?" A moment later Marko walked in, wiping a dagger off on his shirt before putting it away.

"The guards shouldn't be a problem anymore," he told Tobias before looking at us with a start.

"I didn't even recognize the two of you" Tobias said, staring at us. "You really look like shit."

"I do?" Anders asked. "I wish I _felt_ like shit, that was at least three or four beatings ago. I haven't felt that good in days."

Marko shook his head. "It is good to see you are both still among the living. I apologize for the delay, we've been in Val Royeaux for days, but it took us all this time to discover where they were holding you."

"No apology necessary," I said. "I've never been so relieved to see anyone in my life."

"Agreed," Anders added. "Although that relief will be considerably higher if we can get out of this place before anyone catches us."

"Don't worry," Marko said. "There's something at the other end of the building to keep them occupied."

We followed them through the dark building. I could hear shouting in the distance, but wasn't able to tell if it was outside or in other rooms. "How long have we been missing?" Anders asked quietly as we walked.

"Over two weeks," Tobias said. "We figured it was the Chantry right away since really, who else would be able to take the two of you down. When we heard gossip about a small army of templars catching two apostates in a park we were sure." I nodded. I had a dozen more questions but they could easily wait. Turning a corner I sighed with relief, seeing an open door with an expanse of grass just beyond it.

We hadn't gotten that far before someone shouted out. I turned to see a Templar staring at us in shock. Before he could speak again his body tumbled to the ground, an arrow protruding from his eye socket. "Nice shot," Tobias said.

"I wasn't recruited for my charm," Marko replied with a grin. "Although I am rather charming."

"Do all Crows do that?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied with a chuckle.

Finally able to walk outside, I fell to my knees in the grass almost immediately. Marko gave some kind of signal and Moira appeared from behind a nearby building. Fiona and the dalish mage were right behind her.

"Lay down," Fiona ordered Anders, her hands already glowing blue. She and the dalish woman, whose name was apparently Neasa, began working on Anders while Moira worked on me.

Moira was listing my injuries as she worked, I suspected as much for helping her focus the spells as it was for my information. "Cracked skull, broken nose, fractured jaw… pulled shoulder muscles… broken rib, two broken fingers…" She paused and sucked in a breath as her hands moved along, hovering over my pelvis. "Oh, Maggie," she gasped. Fiona moved to my side quickly, casting spells before she was even kneeling.

"Damned templars," she muttered before unleashing a long string of curses in Orlesian. Squaring her shoulders Fiona looked at Moira. "We don't have time to hug and cry and drink tea," she said sharply. "That can come later. We need to heal her before they realize where we are. This serves no one if those bastards begin pouring out on top of us."

"I'm fine," I said. "It doesn't hurt that badly. I really don't want to think about it."

Moira nodded. "I understand." Something in the tone of her voice got my attention. I looked up and she gave me a grim nod. "If you do decide you want someone to talk to you know where I am."

"Thank you," I said after a moment, squeezing her hand.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"A building," Marko said. "Fairly innocuous from the outside. I suspect this is something they use regularly, but maintain as a well-kept secret. We found a room full of glass vials filled with blood while looking for you."

"Phylacteries," I said. "From the mages here in Orlais. They would keep a very close guard on the location of something like that."

"Well, soon it'll be just a large bloody mess," Tobias said. "A few well placed bombs. Aidan would kill me if I passed up destroying something like that. They won't trigger until the next time someone turns the doorknob." I couldn't resist grinning at him. "Nothing like a little chaos long after we're gone, right?"

"How did you ever find us?" Anders asked.

"We knew you were taken to Val Royeaux," Fiona provided. "That is where all heretics are brought. Once we were here we spent days trying to determine where you were being held. Watching the Cathedral we noticed many templars moving between there and this area. Considering this area is filled with nothing but mercenaries' hideouts, brothels, and taverns, it seemed unusual."

"When Marko and I were following one down that alley," Tobias added, pointing, "we both got the sense of wardens nearby. Started peeking into all the windows until we hit on one full of the bucketheads."

"I haven't broken into a building in years," Marko mused. "And this time to _prevent_ someone from being killed. How novel."

Tobias snorted. "You didn't break into anything. We'd still be jiggling the doorknob if it wasn't for me."

"I admit my lockpick skills are not… what they were," Marko said slowly, "but that is excessive."

"Nope," Tobias said. I suppressed a groan. I wasn't sure how much teasing other commanders would tolerate from their wardens. "But… your stealth more than makes up for that. Seriously, you make me look like _Maggie_."

"Hey!" I said.

Tobias laughed. "Come on, we could hear the two of you from halfway across the building. Not to mention that you were all but walking into walls and furniture in the dark."

"How did you get out of your cell?" Marko asked. "We found them wandering the halls!"

"I… um…" I bit my lip, not entirely sure how to finish that sentence. "Magic?"

Fiona looked at me carefully. "Well, that would explain why you've lost so much blood. He's dead, no?"

"Um… maybe? I don't think so, though."

She unleashed a string of Orlesian curses and waved her arm at Marko, who slipped back into the building, followed quickly by Tobias. "Idiots," she finally said. "How is it either of you have survived even this long? You leave him alive to _testify_? You leave _proof_?"

"Oh," I muttered. "I, um, didn't think of that."

"Clearly not," she snapped. "I'll just hope it was the result of head injury." She shook her head and went back to work. Anders, already healed, was sitting next to me casting spells of his own. Fiona paused, although from what I could tell she was actually finished. "How careful are we going to be?" she asked me after a moment.

I glanced up at Anders. "Your decision," he said.

"Do it," I told her. I sucked in a sharp breath as her spell made my insides clench. A moment later it was over. "Good," I said. Fiona handed me a rag to clean up with and politely turned her head.

"As long as you've been a Warden probably unnecessary, but…" she shrugged. "I would not want to be the exception to the rule, either, were I you." She stood up. "That's everything. You both need a decent meal and some actual rest desperately, but the physical damage is fixed. I would have left it for once we were away from this place, but I don't need either of you passing out at this point."

Marko and Tobias came out, a fresh splatter of blood covering both of them, Tobias clutching a hand to his side. Fiona gave me a dirty look and healed him quickly. "See, this was unnecessary. Never leave witnesses! How would it look for the Wardens if news of this got out? Not good!"

"He… probably would not have been much threat," Marko said, apparently trying to defend me. Unnecessarily, since Fiona was completely right. "But, we took out three others who had just arrived to discover him. That may buy us more time."

"Good," Fiona said. "Was he already dead?"

"No…" Tobias said. "He was a bit, um, gone. Maggie really did a number on him." He tapped the side of his head.

"He could have gotten better in time," Fiona said. "I would rather be safe."

"Actually, that was me," Anders said.

Tobias blinked in shock. Probably with reason, I was far more violent than Anders. And more prone to big dramatic gestures. "I'm guessing he really deserved it," he said finally, adding "and he's dead now," before quickly dropping the subject.

"So what now?" I asked.

"Now we hope to sneak both of you past the guards at the front of the building. I have my doubts, even with our distraction, but that is why I wanted to do the healing here. Better to be prepared for a fight." Fiona sighed.

"I don't know," Tobias said. "Oghren is pretty distracting."

"Is he drunk?" I asked.

"Of course," Tobias replied. "That's what makes him so distracting. Last I saw he was vomiting on one of the guards."

I smiled at that mental image.

Following Marko, we attempted to stay in the shadows. I could hear Oghren bellowing. "Listen, girl. We know you have them. We want our wardens back or I swear on my ancestors this building will be rubble!" He belched then.

"For the last time I am _not a girl_," an angry Orlesian accent replied.

"Then why the ballgown?"

We were hustled into a very large wagon and told to stay below the edge. Alain and Augustus were sitting inside. I hadn't even seen it sitting there until Marko all but shoved us up into it. "Strange," I said after thanking them for their timely arrival. "How haven't they noticed us?"

"Did you?" Augustus said.

I shook my head. He wiggled his fingers. "It isn't _quite_ an invisibility spell. Just… if you don't know something is there to look for it, your eyes will not want to see it. Not easy, though. Both of us are keeping it up right now."

"Teach me that tomorrow?" I asked.

"Of course," he said. "But… if you think that's interesting, watch this. Keep your eyes on the Templar on the end. The one with your Oghren's vomit all over his lovely skirt." I peeked over the edge, Anders did the same.

He had his sword drawn, and was waving it menacingly at the three Wardens in front of him, but looked like he didn't want to actually attack. As I was looking his sword seemed to fly from his hand, landing on the ground several yards away.

"Maker's breath," Anders gasped. "You did that?"

"I did," Augustus said. "It isn't exact. You could never, say, place an item on a shelf. But to knock something from someone's hands, knock someone over? That can be done. Tomorrow as well?"

Anders nodded, still looking amazed.

That had apparently been the signal. Gerard made a final menacing gesture to them, shouting "you haven't heard the last of this!" and turned around, walking towards us. He hopped onto the driver's bench while Oghren and Ronan climbed inside. They saw the two of us and beamed. Once we were around the corner and Anders and I sat up, Oghren nearly knocked me back down again when he threw his arms around me. "Was starting to worry we wouldn't be seeing you again!" he exclaimed before doing the same to Anders. Ronan gave each of us a far less boisterous hug before sitting down next to Moira.

"So was I," I admitted, leaning against Anders.

Anders gently shook me awake. "We're here," he said.

"Where is here?"

"The Val Royeaux Warden compound," he said. I looked up at the building. It was dark, but there were enchanted lanterns scattered across the walled yard, practice dummies, archery targets, and the other signs of fighters in residence everywhere I looked.

"Big," I said, not feeling particularly eloquent.

Walking into the building I was instantly surrounded by the familiar sense of Wardens nearby. Even though I couldn't understand a word of what most of the people passing through were saying, it still felt like home, if only because of that. I noticed most of them were looking at me. I suppose they knew what had happened and were wondering who caused all the problems. I felt myself blushing and resisted the urge to turn my face away. I was completely covered in filth, my hair was greasy and hanging in my face, and I'm sure I smelled exactly like someone who had been living in a cell for two weeks. Not the impression I'd like to leave with everyone. At least my face wasn't swollen beyond recognition anymore.

Alain barked out orders and several people scattered. He gestured towards the stairs, we followed him up to our room, Oghren followed. I could have cried with relief seeing they had packed and brought our trunk from Jader.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Anders said, seeing me eyeing the bath. "If not I'll go with Oghren to get us some food."

"No, it's all right," I said. "I'd like to take a bath." He nodded, embracing me before stepping into the hall and closing the door quietly behind him. I actually preferred the chance to be alone. I felt so filthy. I'd rather be clean before he saw me again.

Dropping my armor to the ground, I climbed into the bath with a sigh. After staring forward blankly for so long I had to reheat the water, I grabbed the washrag so I could scrub every trace of the last two weeks from my skin.

I was so focused on this I barely noticed when Anders returned. "I figured you'd want a long bath, so I borrowed Oghren's room to wash up," he called. I could hear him set something down. "Maggie!" he gasped out. I paused, looking up at him, my vision blurred. I hadn't even realized I was crying until then.

"I still feel dirty," I said, returning to scrubbing.

Anders lunged over and grabbed me by the wrist. "_Stop_," he said, taking away the rag.

I blinked, clearing my eyes. "What?" I said, confused.

"You're hurting yourself," he said quietly. I looked down, the water was tinted red.

"I… I didn't even notice," I said, appalled.

"It's all right," Anders said, helping me from the tub and wrapping me in a thick towel. He cast several healing spells to fix wherever I had managed to scrub myself raw.

I sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, I feel like a fool."

"What for?" he said, sitting next to me. "So we refill the water. Not a big deal." I looked at him blankly. "You didn't wash your hair," Anders said with a slight smirk. "And if yours feels even half as dirty as mine did I suspect that's something you would rather take care of."

I reached up and touched my head, giggling. "Oh Maker," I said, leaning forward.

"Are you all right?" Anders asked, watching me laugh with growing concern.

"Yes?" I said. "Well, no… I… I don't even know." I looked over at him, "I think I've finally managed to get one head injury too many, I don't even know how I feel right now. It's like my mind is split in a dozen different directions."

Anders got up and began refilling the bath. "No, I think I know what you mean," he said.

"It's like… I'm angry. I'm so damned angry. Angry at them for what they did, angry at us for being dumb enough to think we could just… wander around like normal people here. I'm just… I want to set things on fire and don't know where I should aim."

"Not at us," he said. "We were dumb… believe me, I've been kicking myself about that for two weeks. But I'd rather not finish this trip off with fire. It's been more than exciting enough."

I started laughing again. After a moment I caught my breath. "And… I don't know, part of me wants to do nothing more than curl up and cry forever. Which is so _stupid_ and won't solve anything, but…" I shrugged. "I just feel so… I don't know… _dirty_. Wrong. It's horrid."

He put his arms around me. "Don't," Anders said.

I shrugged. "It is what it is." Anders sighed and I walked across the room, dropping the towel and getting back in the bath. "I know I _shouldn't_," I said. "But I can't help that I do."

I leaned back, drenching my hair, before looking around for some kind of soap. "Here," Anders said, digging through our trunk and kneeling behind me with the soap we brought from home. "Let me."

I sighed as he started to work the soap through my hair. "And you're laughing," Anders said.

"I am," I agreed. "It was horrible. Horrible is an understatement, really. But… it's over. And we're out, and safe, and I… I never expected that. So I'm kind of, I don't know, giddy?" I sighed. "I know I kept saying we'd get out but… I really didn't expect us to."

"You're the worst liar I know," Anders said. "I figured that out very quickly."

"I thought that spell would totally blow up on me," I said. "I expected them to cut us down there and then for even trying." Anders had finished washing my hair, I rinsed it and started squeezing the water out.

"Even that would have been better than the alternative," Anders said.

I nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I almost fainted when it actually worked. But… it was so _easy_… it… it…" I covered my mouth with my hands. "Oh Maker, what have I done?"

Anders shushed me. "You saved our lives," he said, hands on my shoulders.

"But… mind control…" I grimaced and climbed out of the water, wrapping up in a towel. "I always said I'd never do that. I swore it. To myself, to you, to everyone…" I paced the floor, shivering. "Anders, I've become all the horrible things they said I am. Now it's all _true_."

"Maggie, stop," he said, grabbing me by the waist. "Stop. _We had no choice_." Anders stared at me. "I'm just as responsible as you."

"I cast the spell," I said.

"You wouldn't have been able to without my help," he countered. "I knew exactly what you planned. I _told you_ to do it." He pushed his hair back, a pained expression on his face. "If you hadn't suggested it… I was trying to decide if I could ask you to cross that line. I…" he sat down on the bed, groaning and falling to his back, hands over his face. "I'm a bloody hypocrite," Anders said after a moment.

"You are not," I said, pulling on a nightshirt and sitting by him. "You've known I used blood magic since the day we met. You're the one who heals me after! _I'm _the one who did what I always swore I wouldn't."

Anders stood up and began pacing. "No, it's true," he said. "If I knew how I would have done it myself. Without a second's hesitation. The entire time you were unconscious I sat there _wishing_ I knew how."

"We didn't even know if it would work," I said.

"You didn't know if that _spell_ would work. And if it hadn't you could have frozen him, or paralyzed him, or _something_, to buy more time. Those runes work by suppressing mana, not blocking magic. We both know that." He was quiet for a long time. "All I know," Anders said finally, "is that I could have done something sooner. I could have gotten us out, even if I had to carry you. You woke up and we were out of our cells in less than two hours. For days I could only pace my cell, _useless._" He leaned against the wall, eyes closed. "I could have stopped that bastard from—"

"Don't!" I said, jumping to my feet. "Don't even say it. Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for any of that."

"What he did isn't my fault," Anders said as I crossed the floor. "But not being able to stop him is."

"I don't believe a word of that," I said, standing in front of him. Anders wouldn't meet my eyes. "Look at me."

"How can I?" he said, sinking to his knees. "I don't know how you'll ever forgive me." Wrapping his arms around my legs Anders began repeating "I'm sorry" over and over. I managed to squirm out of his grasp and drop to the floor with him.

"Stop," I said. "Please."

He sat on the floor across from me, eyes rimmed with red. "I just… I feel like I failed. Like I should have been able to protect you."

I raised my eyebrow. "_Protect_ me?"

"I'm supposed to, aren't I? I'm your husband, after all." It was all I could do not to smack him upside the head. Did Anders _really_ see me like that? Like I was some weak little girl who needed a big strong man to keep her safe? I tried to remind myself that he hadn't lived in the circle for as long as me. Among mages there's no difference between men and women. Magical power doesn't pay any attention to gender. But… he grew up in the normal world, where things like that did matter, a great deal. Even so, though, he should know as well as anyone that I was far from helpless.

I sighed, moving closer to him. "I failed as much as you did." He looked at me like I was insane. "No, I'm serious. I'm a combat mage while you're a healer. I'm _supposed_ to be the one who gets banged up, and I'm supposed to make sure you don't. Not just that, I'm still your commanding officer. I let someone under my command get captured and tortured for two weeks because I didn't have the good sense to know wandering around like we were normal people was idiotic. So don't act like you had some duty to save me, I'm not a damsel in distress."

Anders looked at me. "Yes… I've gathered as much over the years." He shrugged. "I know it's silly. I _know_ you're just as capable of defending yourself as me. But…" he shrugged. "You know how it is. You live in the same world I do. It's tough to just forget something like that when it's the only way of doing things you've ever seen. What normal people expect doesn't really apply to people like us; I have to remind myself that on occasion."

"Be thankful for that," I said, relieved that the subject had changed. "Since really… do you _want_ to eat my cooking?"

He gave me a look of mock horror and I elbowed him. "All right," Anders said finally. "I'm not… I won't _stop_ feeling guilty. I can't just turn it off. But I _do_ see your point." He glanced over at me, adding "I guess it is what it is," echoing my earlier statement. Standing up, he grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Won't this be fun. Everyone _already_ seemed to think we were crazy before."

"Yeah…" I said, stretching. "When I promised being a Warden was more exciting than the Circle this is _really_ not what I had in mind."

"I'd hope not," Anders said.

We both crawled into the bed, under the enormous fluffy blankets.

At some point in the night I woke with a start. Sitting up I looked around, reminding myself again that it was over. Anders rolled over, looking up at me and resting a hand on my back.

"Sorry," I said, curling back up in bed. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Just as well," he said. "Considering its dark out again I think we've managed to sleep through a full day." He smiled and stretched with a cat-like arching of his back. "Not that we didn't deserve it."

I moved next to him, Anders automatically wrapped an arm around me. "I don't think anyone will be upset with us," I said. "Well, maybe Fiona, but it doesn't seem to take much with her."

"No," he said, "it doesn't. I just had a fantastic mental image of her yelling at Alistair for not washing behind his ears." I giggled and looked up at him, tracing the line of his jaw with a fingertip. After being separated by bars for what felt like an eternity I couldn't seem to find enough reasons to touch him.

"You're warm," I said. "I never, ever, ever want to leave this bed."

"I like that plan," agreed. "You're not too bad, either. Except your feet, they're like ice. And they're touching me. So if you could, you know, fix that I'd be even happier." I made a face and ran one of my feet up the back of his calf, snickering as he squirmed. "Oh, that's just cruel!" Anders declared, laughing.

I did move my feet away after a moment, though, since really, they _were_ like ice. Neither of us made any move to get out of bed. I was enjoying feeling warm and safe, getting up and dealing with the questions everyone would have wasn't going to be fun. I felt much better the further I could push the whole thing from my mind.

Rolling to my side I looked at Anders. He brushed my hair off my face and leaned over, kissing me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning against him.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, pulling away from me.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have done that."

"You shouldn't have kissed me?" I asked.

He rolled to his back. "More… what would have come after the kissing."

"Were you planning to set me on fire after or something?"

Anders made a face at me. "You know what I mean. It just seems… really soon."

Sighing, I looked at him. "I don't want to think of… _that_ as having anything to do with this. It's not the same. And... I don't know," I sighed. "I feel like if I do start to act like there's a connection I may never be able to _stop_ thinking that way."

"I just don't want to rush you," he said. "It can wait until you're ready."

"Anders," I said, rolling on my back and pressing my palms to my eyes. "I think the fact that we're _having_ this conversation means you're not rushing me. The thought never crossed my mind." I looked over at him. "Please don't start treating me like I'm… broken." A horrible thought crossed my mind and I sat up quickly. "Did what happened…" I bit my lip and took a breath before going on. "Did it make you not want _me_ anymore? You don't think of me as… ruined now, do you?"

"What?" Anders sat up, staring at me. "Maker's breath, Maggie. Are you insane?" He stared at me. "That's right, you are. How is it that I keep forgetting?" Anders put his arms around me. "Nothing has changed for me. _Nothing_. I just didn't want to be some kind of barbarian pushing you into doing something you weren't ready for."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "All right," I said. "I just had to make sure, or I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it."

"I'm kind of hurt you would even worry about that," he said, looking sad.

"Please don't be," I said. "You know it's my own paranoia."

"I know," he said, pulling me closer. "So… can I kiss you now or do we need to have a few more rounds of reassuring each other?"

"I think I'd rather get hit in the head with a plank than have that conversation again," I said.

"I _suppose_ I could do that but I thought we would try to cut down on the massive head trauma. At least until we both remember how to tie our shoes again. But, if it makes you happy I—"

I cut him off, pressing my lips to his. "Stop talking," I whispered.

"Right," he said.

Falling back to the pillows I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the feeling of his lips on my throat. "Love you," I said.

He looked up and smiled at me. "Love you too." I sat up slightly so Anders could pull my nightshirt over my head. Running his palm across my stomach he sighed. "I thought I would never touch you again."

"Sssshhh, don't," I said. "We're together now. That's what matters."

"Yes," he agreed, "it is."

I slid my fingertips along the muscles of his chest as he did the same to me, sighing as his thumb brushed against my nipple and gasping his name as his lips replaced it The hand began sliding down my body, fingers slipping between my legs. Kissing me again, he groaned into my mouth as I wrapped my hand around him, stroking at the same pace his fingers moved against me.

Smiling, he slipped out of my reach. I arched my back as his lips moved from shoulder to breast, pausing before continuing down. Resting his cheek on my stomach, Anders ran his fingertip across my mouth. "You're so beautiful," he said, looking at me as my lips parted, his finger brushing against my teeth.

I couldn't respond before Anders slid further down, only able to gasp as I felt his tongue against me, keeping pace with the fingers that slid into me. Tangling my hands in his hair, I groaned out his name, throwing my head back and moving my hips against his mouth.

Shuddering, I fought to catch my breath, pulling him up by his shoulder. "Please," I said, sitting up and kissing him. Anders gasped my name as we came together, kissing my neck. Our hips moved together, eyes locked.

"Love you," he said, fingertips brushing against my cheek. Shifting my hips, I wrapped my legs around him, smiling.

Panting, I gasped out his name, swearing my love with every thrust. Reveling in the wonderfully familiar way he filled me, the way we moved together, even the smell of his skin, I tensed, shuddering and crying out. I clutched at his warm back, kissing him before I collapsed against the pillows. Whispering "Anders," I brushed my fingers across his lip. He gently scraped his teeth against them before tensing. I grabbed for his shoulders, pulling myself up and slamming my mouth against his just as I felt him spill inside me. With a shout Anders collapsed onto me, quickly rolling over and folding me into his arms.

Not quite ready to face the world, we remained there in bed, curled up under the blankets, our limbs intertwined and clinging to each other.

* * *

_ Wow... just... wow. I can't thank everyone enough for the amazing response to the last chapter. For the record, I didn't write it TO make everyone angry, I just worried it would have that end result. I was, apparently, pretty far off base with that. Honestly, I am completely overwhelmed and cannot thank all of you enough._


	77. It's all I can do not to kiss the dirt

Eventually we managed to pull ourselves from bed and, after a long bath, realized it was several hours to dawn and almost everyone in the compound was long since asleep.

"Doesn't seem much point to going back to bed," Anders said. I nodded in agreement as we finished off the fruit and bread he had brought up for us before we went to sleep. "This is going to sound insane, but I actually feel like getting some exercise."

"Actually," I said, "that sounds brilliant. We've barely picked up a weapon or cast any spells for two weeks. I feel all… squishy and out of shape." Pulling on my armor, I sighed realizing I had to tighten every strap to one notch smaller than usual, and one place had to go in even more still. "Oh good," I muttered. "It looks like my weight loss was concentrated in my chest. That's just perfect."

Anders snickered, rolling his eyes. "Weren't you complaining a month ago about your ballgown being too tight and needed a new one for when the princes are born?"

"It wasn't too tight _there_."

He shrugged. "You look fine. I barely noticed. Just wear the dress from our wedding, since that _was_ too tight there. Which is why it looked so fantastic."

"So you _did _notice?"

He sighed. "Not answering that. Calm down, we've both lost weight from not eating for two weeks. You'll be back to normal soon." He was right, but I would have far preferred being back to normal _now_. At least my teeth didn't feel like they were ready to fall out anymore, though.

Once armored we stepped out of our room, hoping to take advantage of their training areas until everyone else woke up. I jumped back, shocked, when I saw two guards standing at the end of the hall. Both bowed in salute.

"Commander Marguerite, Ser Anders" one said in heavily accented common speech. "Commander Alain has asked us to see to your needs."

I gasped in surprise and actually stepped back before I realized what I was doing. Anders glanced over at me and set a hand on my shoulder. "We were just hoping to use the training room," he said. They gave us directions and stepped aside. "It's all right," Anders whispered to me when I didn't move. I nodded and forced my legs to carry me forward. On the stairs I sighed.

"I don't know where that came from," I said.

"After what happened I'd think that would be normal," he said. "You haven't, um, had the best experiences with strange men in the last few weeks."

"I was fine with everyone who came to get us," I said. "I don't want to become one of those nervous people."

"Maybe because they were all Wardens?" he said, shrugging. "You've always been pretty good at sensing other members of the order. Could be that the instinct to be nervous is overridden by that."

"Could be," I said. "Or I'm just going insane. Always an option to keep in mind."

"_Going_?"

I chuckled, elbowing him. We were passing a small but impressive looking library. Stepping in for a quick look, I turned right back around again. Every book was in Orlesian, as I should have guessed. "I guess they have a chapel," I said, passing a small room with a statue of Andraste and candles. "Should we have a chapel?"

"Looks more like a small shrine," Anders said. "I doubt they actually have services here." He shrugged. "No harm in putting one in. The Peak has one already, after all."

I nodded and we continued on. "Actually," I said, glancing back over my shoulder, "I'll catch up to you in a little bit."

Anders squeezed my hand and nodded.

Turning back, I walked into the deserted shrine. Raising my hand, I lit one of the candles before the statue of Andraste and dropped to my knees. I stared up at the immobile stone face and sighed. Leliana had always been fond of saying that the Maker would never send someone more difficulties than they could endure, but I was having an awful lot of trouble believing that. Just how much could one person live through and not go mad? I suspected it would normally be a lot less than what I'd faced in the last decade.

Was it some sort of sign of the Maker's displeasure?

Maybe He did hate mages, maybe we were cursed and every time I convinced someone otherwise He just hated me even more. Maybe He wanted to see the world suffer for the sins of the magister lords, and the years I'd spent battling the darkspawn only enraged Him. He did create the darkspawn, after all. Maybe we were _expected_ to die, and the Grey Wardens were a constant source of annoyance. _You have brought Sin to Heaven and doom upon all the world_. That was what the Chant said, and there the Wardens were, each time, stopping that doom in its tracks. Maybe this was a punishment.

But that didn't feel right.

Maybe he simply didn't care. The Chant says the Maker had turned from the _world_, but still watched over the faithful. That was how they return to His side in death. Perhaps they were wrong, though. Perhaps, if He did exist, He was as cold and indifferent as many believed.

That didn't seem quite right, either, though.

I couldn't imagine the Maker would _want_ the world to die at the hands of the Darkspawn. The blights were brought on by the Old Gods, intelligent dragons, whatever… that wasn't part of His plan. They were mutated so they would be known as sinners, so they couldn't hide their crimes. It was Dumat who led the first blight.

I didn't _think_ mages were really cursed, either. It… it made no sense. To curse someone from birth, at random? That wasn't any sort of justice. And really, as far as curses went, being given more abilities than normal people wasn't exactly a very effective one. If you put aside the way _people _treat mages and just look at the condition itself it was really pretty amazing. Why not make me blind or deaf, or unable to walk? Making me capable of less than most people would certainly make more sense than making me capable of _more_.

I closed my eyes and took a breath. Even though it seemed insane, deep down, I didn't feel punished. I felt _lucky_. I should be dead. Over and over and over again I should have died. At Ostagar in the Joining, in the battle, in the tower of Ishal, during the blight, in the Deep Roads underground, fighting demons, templars, werewolves, abominations, the archdemon, the architect, the mother, and darkspawn, a never ending wave of darkspawn. I should be dead. Dead on the road, dead in some ruin, dead underground, dead in the woods, dead in a cell... it didn't matter which, I'd come close in all of them and every single time I'd managed to survive. Through my own skill… sometimes. Mostly through sheer luck, though. It was luck that Duncan just happened to be in the tower to save me from whatever punishment the templars would have issued for helping Jowan. It was luck that I made it through the Joining, and was spirited away by Flemeth instead of left in the tower. It was luck that we always seemed to arrive just in time to help our potential allies so they could still be of use to us against the archdemon. It was luck that the archdemon didn't reveal itself until Alistair and I had managed to secure all the help we could with the treaties. It was luck that I arrived at the Keep during a darkspawn attack and managed to save so many. It was luck that the templars bringing Anders back to the circle had stopped there at all. It was luck that, last night, the Wardens had arrived with a rescue party just as Anders and I broke from the cell.

How could one person have so much good luck? Maybe _that_ was the Maker?

As though I would ever know one way or the other.

As I was thinking of this I heard a noise behind me. Turning, I saw Fiona in the doorway. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I came down here to think, I wasn't expecting to find anyone."

"It's all right," I assured her, standing up. "I'll clear out of your way."

"No, no," she said, waving her hand. "I was just here for the solitude."

"I wasn't really praying. Just… thinking. Trying to decide if I'm blessed or cursed. Both seem equally likely."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'd say it would lean more towards the latter if anything," Fiona said. "After all, you were scheduled to be executed about twenty hours ago. And yet, here we are. There are only so many times one person can cheat death before you would need to start looking for another reason. Although I would attribute it more to luck than any absent deity."

I shrugged. "Either way, it just seems… odd."

She shook her head, looking briefly amused. "What isn't? After all, here I stand speaking to the closest friend of the baby I gave away almost three decades ago. I never would have expected that."

"You have a point," I agreed. "Still deciding?" She nodded. "Is it true you were hoping to be reassigned somewhere further south?"

"I'd like to get away from Weisshaupt. They care only about keeping the order powerful, not about actually _being_ Wardens. I don't care for being a politician, I miss being a Warden."

"Tell me about it," I sighed. "It's not because you miss Orlais?"

"Orlais has never treated me kindly," she said. "It is only a place. Antiva is a little too… flamboyant for my tastes, and Nevarra too strict. We're not monks, but they all act as though we are. Far too serious. From _me_ that is saying something."

"Want to come to Ferelden?" I asked, nursing an idea that had occurred to me when I first heard the rumor from Alain.

"So you can pester me day and night about talking to Alistair? No thanks, I suspect one of us would kill the other in short time."

I shook my head. "Not to live with me. We have another fortress. I haven't staffed it yet since I don't have anyone who can _run_ it. All my people… they're either already occupied with something or far too green for anything that large. I've only been a Warden seven years, and I have three on our most senior members. I need someone with experience. And it would take me almost four hours on horseback if I wanted to show up and pester you."

She paused, raising an eyebrow. "The Dryden fortress? That Levi mentioned it to Duncan when we went to Ferelden many years ago. Haunted, ruined, abandoned for centuries. This is where you would send me?"

"Closed the veil myself," I said. "Anders, Moira, myself and another of our mages went into the fade and killed the pride demon. Plus, it's been completely renovated, top to bottom. Very nice. I had all the mabari carvings replaced with griffins."

She did pause then. "I should have known a mage would sense the damage. That is an interesting option. I'll think about it."

"I don't know when we're leaving," I admitted. "I honestly have no idea what's going on now… Anders and I only woke up a couple hours ago. If you decide before then and want to return with us that's fine, though. We need to book a new passage home anyways, we were supposed to leave more than a week ago." I froze. "Does anyone in Ferelden know what happened? They're probably in a panic."

"They know," she said. "Alain sent a messenger himself when we realized you were missing, and another when you were asleep. Apparently your king has taken to using mages as his couriers."

"Oh, smart," I said. Fiona didn't seem to understand. "A mage can cast haste on a horse, and rejuvenate. They can go twice as far as a normal rider in the same amount of time."

"If you can find a mage who can ride a horse," she laughed.

"Well, yes, there is that. But teaching a mage to ride a horse is a lot easier than trying to teach a skilled rider how to be a mage."

"Surprised the Chantry allows it."

I snorted. "Did you notice the Chantry inside Ferelden and outside aren't exactly on the best of terms lately? Neither wants to openly declare a split or a war, but…" I shrugged. "Technically everything that we've changed is within the bounds of Chantry law. But… it's the most liberal interpretation anyone has ever taken of it. There are mage knights in the service of the king and several other nobles, mage city guards, all sorts of things. Not just healers, either. The guard captain in Amaranthine was thrilled to get a few mages that could do decent paralysis spells, it makes taking down drunks without hurting anyone easier."

"Smart, but… not something the Chantry would like. They don't want us out among the public. So for this they blame you?"

"So it seems." I shrugged. "I guess it is my _fault_, really. I mean, I'm the one who suggested the plan for reorganizing the schools, I'm the one who talked the Knight-Commander into going along with it. I'm the one who managed to convince the king not all mages are half-mad abominations waiting to happen. Although that wasn't something I planned out. I suppose I could have spent more time during the blight howling at the sky and jabbering to myself or something. Maybe wet my robes on occasion." She rolled her eyes at me. "What? That's exactly what happened. The king had to spend almost every waking moment with a mage for two years. Most of the nonsense about us kind of falls apart after that long. They did it to themselves, really, though."

"How so?"

"Did you hear what happened to the Circle in Ferelden during the blight?"

"A blood mage rebellion, I'd heard. They say you put a stop to it."

I snorted. "I would have joined it if I hadn't been recruited. But yes, we did stop it. Not to end the rebellion but because they were going to annul the circle." Fiona made a horrified sound. A complete annulment of the circle, killing every living thing within the walls, had only happened a few times since the Chantry's founding. "The templars locked everyone in. There were only a handful of mages involved, but they locked _every single one_ in to die. We arrived just looking for support in the blight and found two dozen templars in the lobby, not one mage. Even the children were trapped inside. When we got there… we had to step over the bodies of apprentices so young I suspect most couldn't cast as much as a single spell. The templars claim they protect the mages from a world that hates them… and Alistair always believed that. Until then he thought I exaggerated everything. That day changed everything for him. Two dozen men left them to die, and with five people and a dog we were able to resolve everything."

"They thought the _children_ were involved?"

"Probably not. I think they only wanted to save their own skin. Cowards. Anders said he thinks they saw it as a good chance to rid the world of a bunch of mages, but… I don't think all of them would do that."

"Hm," she said. I suspected she agreed more with Anders.

"Most of the templars left behind were killed trying to protect people. Shielding the bodies of children, that sort of thing. In either case, Alistair never looked at them the same way after that."

She made a slight noise of surprise at that. "You know, we had to spend several hours convincing the Ferelden Wardens that simply kicking doors down and slaughtering every templar between here and Jader wouldn't be the best plan. Most already seemed to hold a substantial grudge. It seems the Chantry's knights don't do much to endear themselves to your branch of the order."

"Maker's breath," I sighed. "How many templars are there in Val Royeaux alone? Two thousand? Three?"

"Probably closer to five or six," Fiona said. "More if you want to include the recently retired who can still be lucid on occasion."

"Are there even that many Wardens in all of Thedas?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Which is what we told them. We may be better, well… we _are_ better, I know that. But they outnumber us ten to one or more. There aren't even a thousand Wardens in all of the Anderfels. Probably less than three thousand in all of Thedas. Better to sneak past them."

I nodded. "That's what I thought. I don't have a full compliment in Ferelden, we've only got eighty or so now, but I can't imagine ever wanting to grow our numbers beyond three or four hundred. And that would be temporary." She looked at me. "Every single Warden in Ferelden now has joined in the span of four years. What happens twenty five years from now?"

"So… have too many for the next few decades until the times everyone joined has a more natural variance."

"Exactly," I said. "Duncan was doing the reverse- keeping numbers low, only adding one or two people a year. But I don't have to worry about a suspicious government and nation like he did."

"Johann told me when he got off the boat in the Amaranthine harbor he was swamped by people wanting to know all about the Wardens," she said, chuckling. "I suspect that only happens in Ferelden."

"It's good for us," I said. "If we weren't popular people would be concerned about how fast we're growing, how many mages we have, that we're basically outside the law, and yet protected by the highest laws in the country." I shrugged. "Alistair made it treason to interfere with us, but no one seems to mind since everyone still loves us for ending the blight. It won't last, though. The next generation won't care, and once everyone who saw the blight firsthand is gone we won't be any different from the Wardens everywhere else."

"So get as much power as you can now," Fiona said.

"You got me," I admitted. "If I'm lucky I've got a bit over twenty years left. I want to make sure the order will be secure when that happens."

"I didn't expect you to be so… I don't want to say _conniving_ since that sounds horrid, but…"

"Got you," I said. "And I know I am. I wasn't always, but I have to be. I've always been a bit manipulative, though, I'll admit that. But… batting my lashes at someone so he carries my books for me isn't quite the same as, say, convincing the Legion of the Dead to leave the deep roads and fight the archdemon." I sighed. "I didn't have much choice, though. Alistair doesn't have a manipulative bone in his body, and we had to talk a lot of people into quite a bit during the blight. The ugly work always fell to me."

"I'm guessing now that you didn't exaggerate how much he had changed things for mages in Ferelden," she said after a moment.

"Wow, you think?" I said.

"He really wouldn't be upset to find out his mother is an elf?"

"He'd be more upset to find out she was alive all this time and never looked for him," I said, wanting to be honest. "He might be _surprised_, and maybe nervous about the political implications… but not upset like you're thinking. Alistair doesn't think like that. One of his closest friends is an elf, you know."

"The man in the background of that picture you gave me?"

I nodded. "Marko knows him, actually. They were in the same cell of the Antivan Crows together. He was hired to kill us during the blight and jumped sides instead. For a while after the blight Alistair tried to tell me he was just working for him after since he didn't know how I'd feel about them being friends, but they're really very close."

"He thought you wouldn't approve?" she said, looking suspicious.

"Well, yeah," I said. "Or that I would be hurt. Probably more that."

"Because he's an elf?"

I gaped at her. "Maker's breath, would you _get over_ the elf thing? No, he thought I would be hurt because Zevran broke my heart when he left me in the middle of the night after almost two years together. Clearly I'm over it, though. We're actually on friendly terms again."

"Oh," Fiona said after a moment. "Sorry."

"Do you always assume _everything_ is because you're an elf? If I went around blaming every bad thing that happened to me on being a mage I think I'd go insane."

"Haven't most of the bad things that happened to you been for just that reason?"

"That isn't the point," I said. "And no, not really. Just… most of them." I shook my head. "I'm worried enough about how I'm supposed to staff a garrison in Dalish lands without offending them, having other Wardens make insinuations is the last thing I need."

"How would it offend them?"

"Well, if I put a human in charge, that's clear," I said. "But… if I put an elf in charge they may turn around and say I only did that because I want to make them happy. Or that elves are only allowed leadership roles among other elves. Which is bull, the woman running our Denerim garrison is an elf. But, that's how the Dalish are. They _love_ finding a reason to be offended. You'd like them." She rolled her eyes at me and I grinned. "I'm thinking of just confounding them and putting a dwarf in charge. Maybe casteless, to make it even more confusing. Seeing Runi's face the first time they call her a durgen'len might be worth it."

"Very mature," she said drily.

"Hey, be glad I'm not thinking about just retiring and hiding out for the rest of my life after the last couple weeks I've had."

"I'm actually surprised by how well you seem to be dealing with everything," she said. "I… well, this isn't an easy world for women. And Orlais may perhaps be worse than most places."

"I'm sure it hasn't all hit me yet," I admitted. "But… what choice do I have? I can't sit home and cry while someone takes care of me. I can't stop being a Grey Warden because I'm _sad_. And Anders has been through just as much as me."

"He wasn't…"

"No, he wasn't," I agreed. "But… I was unconscious for most of that. They… made him watch. So he remembers it. I…" I shrugged, not sure how to explain. "I hate knowing it happened. But since I can't _remember_ it, well, it's not that bad. If I could it would be worse. And I feel bad since he's dealing with that, and I'm not there for him at all. I don't even _want_ to talk about it with him since I'd rather pretend it didn't happen." I stood up. "But, speaking of, he's been waiting for me in the practice room." She nodded and said she would consider my offer before I left.

I relayed part of my conversation with Fiona to Anders as we moved from one side of the training room to the other, wooden practice weapons smashing off each other. I tossed another broken wooden dagger aside, grabbing a replacement from the rack. It joined a pile of several other shattered weapons. "We're going to owe Alain a good chunk of money by the time we finish," Anders said, examining the damage.

"Nah," I replied. "He's stuck using Orlesian trees for their practice weapons. I'll send him some made of good Ferelden oak."

"Spoken like a true noble of Ferelden," he laughed. "At least we're not using magic, too." Anders paused, grinning as I managed to jump over a low swing of his blade. "So you think she could run the Peak?"

"Better than any of our other options," I said, deflecting a blow from his wooden broadsword. "Everyone I would trust to do it doesn't _want_ to. Or has something else going on. I even asked Sigrun. She laughed at me and Nathaniel gave me dirty looks for two days after."

"Another mage in a position of authority…" Anders began, dodging my leg as I tried to trip him.

"Is exactly what everyone would expect from me at this point."

He chuckled at that. "I suppose the Chantry's already shown us the worst they can do," he said after a moment, sounding slightly out of breath as I advanced on him and he attempted to use the unwieldy weapon to deflect my faster blows.

"See," I said, before issuing a small shriek as I jumped backwards. He had managed to regain the upper hand and I couldn't even get close enough to counterattack. "Nothing to lose at this point. So I figure rub it in their faces. You know, once we're safely back in Ferelden."

"Are you going to give them the finger and sing neener-neener next?" Anders laughed, pinning me against the wall.

"If given the opportunity? Absolutely! I may even dance."

He laughed, looking down at me. "Got you," Anders announced. "I win!"

Before he could react I grabbed him by the neck and pulled his lips to mine. Taking advantage of Anders' distraction I pushed back on one of his shoulders, quickly reversing our positions. "You spoke too soon," I said, laughing.

"You are such a cheater," he said. "I've never seen you use that move on darkspawn. I think I'd be very, well, I don't know if _angry_ is the right word, probably _horrified and repulsed_ is more accurate."

I laughed. "You are not a darkspawn," I said. "Although you're sweating enough to smell like one. And I still win!"

He dropped his weapon in defeat, smiling. I stepped back and Anders lunged forward, grabbing me by the hips and pinning me against the wall again. "I do not smell," he said.

I giggled, kicking my feet above the ground.

"I do _not_ smell," Anders repeated.

"All right," I said, hooking my legs around his hips. "You don't smell. I was only teasing."

With a smirk Anders kissed me. I slung my arms around his neck and we remained there, leaning against the wall of the practice room, until the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted us. Anders dropped me back to my feet and I straightened my armor out. "Sorry," I said, blushing as Alain smirked at us from across the room.

"Well, Oghren did warn me that, wherever you were, you would be…"

"Donning the velvet hat?" I offered.

"Tapping the midnight still?" Anders said.

Alain laughed. "Forging the moaning statue," he said.

"He likes that one," I said. "Sorry. Kind of… lost track of ourselves."

He shrugged. "You're still practically newlyweds, after all. I remember what that was like." We followed him down the hall, the smell of food growing stronger with every step.

After lunch I finally was able to give my speech on the blight, detailing everything I knew of Morrigan's plans so it could go into the records of every nation's branch of the order. Thankfully, everyone agreed with my worry that the child would have attracted the darkspawn just as the old gods did underground. Most were less believing about the possibility of Flemeth still existing in some form or another come the next blight, but even if she wasn't, it was just as likely for some other mage with more ambition than good sense to present a similar proposal.

After that we had dinner and, with two hot meals in me, I was beginning to feel more like my normal self. Sitting in the dining hall, a raucous discussion broke out on just how much recruits should be told after the Joining, and how soon. "Too much too soon," someone called, "and how could someone ever be happy as a Warden? Let them enjoy the stamina, the strength, at least for a few months before we burden them with gruesome death and destruction of souls."

"And what happened to me?" I said. "We have too many secrets, even between each other. What if the disaster was worse- what if no one remained who knew all the secrets, in Ferelden or anywhere else?"

"What are the odds of that happening again?"

"Is the risk worth it?" I countered. "The senior members are always first in line, always hoping for a chance to die in battle and avoid taking the Calling. It's the new members who are most likely to survive."

No consensus was reached, but at least the nations where they insisted on a slow delivery of bad news all insisted everything was recorded in a secure location should the worst happen.

It seemed as though we had all silently decided to pretend nothing unusual had happened, and continue as we originally planned. Or perhaps they had a long discussion about it before Anders and I had escaped, or while we slept. But, in any case, we began again the next morning with a long talk on the Architect and his followers. After lunch it was followed by an explanation from the Antivan branch about what we could expect in the long term of the blight-ravaged lands. Alain's staff had taken care of rebooking everyone's passages home and we had only a few days to share everything we could think of.

Walking past one of the large meeting rooms on the day we would leave I heard what sounded like an argument. Unable to resist, I peeked in and saw the Weisshaupt delegation. Fiona seemed to be receiving the brunt of their anger, but since I couldn't actually _understand_ them it seemed pointless to try and eavesdrop.

I discovered the cause of the argument soon enough, in any case. As Anders and I packed the last of our things Fiona knocked on the open doorframe. "I've decided to accept your offer," was all she said before disappearing.

"That was… sudden," Anders said.

"I hope the First Warden isn't angry about it," I said. It hadn't occurred to me that he might be before I made the offer.

"Too late now," Anders said.

Fiona said very little on the trip to the docks, and perhaps even less on the boat home. There were several templars traveling on the same ship, though, so the silence was as much my fault. As soon as I saw their armor I began shaking and didn't stop until Anders helped me back to our cabin, locking the door and jamming a chair under the knob.

"I can't live like this," I sighed, curling up under the blankets. "I want to be myself again."

"You will be," Anders said, holding me. "You'll see. Every day it'll get better until one day you're back to smart mouthing them and laughing while you make threats." I wasn't sure if I believed him, but I certainly wanted to.

When we finally stepped off the boat in Amaranthine I took a deep breath. "Hm," Fiona said, making a face. "Still smells like dogs."

"I've missed that smell." I smiled, looking around the familiar landscape.

"_Though you passed through bleakest darkness, He has freed you from captivity and, through faith, delivered you home_."

"Isn't that a dissonant verse?" Fiona asked.

"Indeed it is," Anders said. "Canticle of Shartan. Doesn't seem any less appropriate, though. It's all I can do not to kiss the dirt."

I watched our trunks being unloaded. "We'll probably have to hire a wagon," I mused. "Or buy one."

"Maybe not," Ronan said, pointing. I looked over and saw a wagon driven by one of our stablehands and a coach with Captain Garevel on the driver's bench.

"You didn't have to come out for us," I said, walking over.

"I'm actually hard at work," he said, nodding at the coach. "Someone else wanted to meet you here. You gave us all quite a scare."

"Believe me, as bad as it was for you, we enjoyed it far less," I said, actually managing a smile as I opened the door to the coach. I couldn't help but notice the drapes were all heavily drawn.

I was tackled almost as soon as I stepped up into the dark coach. "You have no idea how worried I was! I had to come see for myself that you were both all right!"

"Alistair!" I exclaimed in surprise as I returned his embrace. I think I could actually hear Fiona's jaw drop even as I was being crushed against the king's doublet.

* * *

_Thanks so much to all my reviewers. Sorry for the slow update, midterms and so on... Believe me, I'd much rather be writing about Maggie and Anders than about Crime and Punishment. ;) _


	78. Swear to never leave Ferelden again

Even without one more person than they had anticipated the coach would have been a tight squeeze. With me on Anders' lap and Moira on Ronan's we managed to fit. Oghren offered to let Fiona sit on his lap, and she offered to set his beard on fire. I was glad to see she was fitting in already.

Alistair said hello to everyone he recognized. I noticed Fiona watching him carefully as he grabbed Tobias' arm and gave it a hearty shake, grinning at the elf. I suppose she still didn't quite believe me and expected him to harbor some sort of bizarre racist tendency. He stopped in his hellos, pausing at Moira. "We've met?" he said to her.

She grinned and nodded. "Years ago, yes."

He stared at her more closely. "I… hmm… Was it in Lothering?"

"No," she said. "But Maggie guessed the same thing."

"I'm sorry," he finally said, flashing her a smile. "I've been hit on the head a lot. That's why I've got a whole room of people to do my thinking for me. Can you give me more of a hint?"

She actually giggled when faced with the Theirin charm and nodded. "Well… the Commander spared my life. I probably didn't deserve it, and she probably just did it to make Wynne angry, but I swore I'd devote my life to her cause for it. So here I am."

Alistair stared at her again. "Circle tower," he said finally. "The second floor library."

"Right," she said.

"You know she wouldn't have held you to that promise," he said. "She never does with that sort of thing."

"I know," Moira said. "But… I like being a Warden. It's a worthy cause. I've never felt accepted anywhere before."

He nodded. "I know that feeling. So… does Wynne know? She was _so_ angry."

"She does," I said. "Although it was a bit of a shock for her. We saw her at the opening of the new school just before leaving. And I'd think it's safe to say she's over her anger." I told him about their reunion, trying not to make the story too embarrassing for Moira.

Nodding, Alistair turned to Fiona. "Now, I know we haven't met," he said, still grinning. "Are you being transferred to Ferelden?"

She stared at him blankly. "I…. um…"

"She is," I said quickly, realizing Fiona was certainly not expecting to be face to face with her son an hour after arriving in Ferelden. "To run the Peak. Fiona was at Weisshaupt until now, but Orlais originally. She knew Duncan."

"Really!" Alistair said, looking excited. "I may have to pester you for stories some day. I've always wondered what he was like when he was young." He paused. "Not to say you aren't young now or anything and I'm just going to stop talking now before I dig myself into an even deeper hole." I snickered.

"Of course, Your Majesty," she managed to stutter out. I gave her a sympathetic look.

"Please, just call me Alistair. I may be stuck being king, but I'm still a Warden, after all."

"It is rather 'till death do us part,'" Ronan said, chuckling.

"You don't _like_ being king?" Fiona asked him after a moment.

Alistair shrugged. "I suppose complaining sounds horrible when I live in a palace. I just hate having everyone bow and scrape around me, I miss being a normal person. Or, well, a normal Warden, which isn't quite a normal person, but…" He trailed off, looking out the window. "It's worth it, though. I'd like to think I've done a lot of good."

"You have," I said. "You won't find a soul in Ferelden who would disagree."

"Well…" Alistair laughed.

"All right, you won't find a soul in Ferelden, excluding religious fanatics and bigots, who would disagree."

"There you go," he said. "And I really don't care if those sorts are angry with me, anyways." He glanced over at me. "You know, when I got to the Keep Jowan all but knocked me over, demanding to know when we would march against Orlais."

"_What_?" I said, not sure _how_ to react. "Jowan? You're _sure_ it was Jowan? He wants us to go to _war_?"

"Definitely," Alistair said. "I thought he was going to punch me when I asked if he planned to hand them Ferelden on a silver tray or gift wrapped with a bow."

"Wow," I muttered.

"Zevran did the same thing," Alistair went on. "He realized we couldn't even stand up to the Chantry alone at this point, though. So he's contented himself with arranging a series of painful and final accidents for quite a few members of the Chantry hierarchy."

"Remind me to buy him a present," Anders said.

"You know, the commander in Antiva knows him. They were in the same Crow cell growing up."

"I know," Alistair said. "How do you think he found out? I was too worried to tell him, I figured it would just end with…"

"A series of painful and final accidents for members of the Chantry hierarchy?"

"Exactly." We both chuckled at that. "He got a letter from his friend."

I sighed, leaning against Anders. "My pride isn't so great that I'd demand a war to avenge my honor."

"Mine is," Anders said, clearly not serious.

"I admit, I'd like to cut a few of those bastards down to size," Oghren said finally. "But I know the state of the army. Or at least the state of it four years back. Nowhere near ready to take someone like that on. Can't imagine it's changed that much so quickly." I'd forgotten Oghren spent a year as a general between the blight and joining the Wardens.

Alistair nodded. "Better now, but… no, not yet. Maybe someday. I hope we never have to, but who knows." He pushed his hair back. I noticed it was getting longer. "The Chantry doesn't run this nation, as much as they may want to. And I won't back down if they press the issue. We didn't spend generations fighting to regain our independence only to turn it over to another foreign master."

"And your wife will kill you," Anders said.

"And my wife will kill me," Alistair agreed. "Don't say it out loud, though. You'll ruin my reputation."

"Hey, I'm a married man, I know how it is," Anders laughed. Oghren nodded with a chuckle.

"Oh please," I muttered. "The only time I ever tell you what to do is if we're in the middle of a fight. And that's your commanding officer speaking, not your wife."

"Funny thing, they look remarkably alike," he laughed. "And I remember someone grabbing me by the hair last night and yelling at me to—"

I clamped a hand over his mouth. "First, that doesn't count. Second… shut up."

"And so you start ordering him around right here?" Alistair laughed. "Way to prove your point, Mags."

I laughed, punching his shoulder. "You _want_ him to finish that sentence? Really?"

Alistair elbowed me. "Nah. Just wanted to see if I could still get you to make the annoyed face. I can, apparently. Good to see this hasn't broken your spirit."

"I'll break you," I threatened, grinning at him.

"Now, I've told you this for seven years. Your witchy powers can't scare me. Templar, remember?"

I made a chattering gesture with my hand. "I could just punch you in the nose."

"You couldn't _reach_," he laughed.

"Want to bet?"

Alistair laughed. "Oh, if it's a fist fight you want I'll give you one. Make sure Anders is on hand to patch you up after."

"Me?" I said, poking him in the stomach. "I still kill darkspawn all the time. You're the one getting soft with your palace life and your fancy cheeses."

"Ah, but I have _youth_ on my side. What are you now? Thirty?"

"I'm going to kill you," I said. "_Slowly_."

"Don't overexert yourself," he said. "You may break a hip."

"Wow, now _I _want to kill you," Anders said. "I'm five years older than her!"

"Oh, I'm only joking," Alistair said. "She's so sensitive about her age. How could I not? When she finally realized I was a couple years younger you should have seen the look on her face. I thought she would feed me to a genlock."

"Because you said 'wow, I didn't know you were _that_ old,'" I snapped.

Fiona was staring at us, her mouth hanging open. "You all right there?" Tobias asked, looking at her.

"I… yes," she said. "I suppose I should reevaluate my idea of how kings behave since the only two I've met have shattered those expectations completely."

"Don't mind me," Alistair said to her, smiling. "As Maggie will point out, I give everyone else who was raised in a barn a bad name." I winced as Alistair laughed at his own joke. Being reminded of how horrible he was treated when she gave him up just so he would have a better life was probably the last thing Fiona wanted at the moment. "But then, I suspect every off-color rumor about the personal lives of mages originates with her, so I suppose we're even."

"Why Alistair, what are you implying?"

"That my first introduction to you was seeing you in the tent of another recruit you had just met the night before?" he offered. "And that I learned more from your offhand comments and ribald stories than I ever did from any 'where babies come from' discussion?"

"Hey, you'll give _me_ a bad name," I laughed. "And you didn't even know it was me in that tent until he made a comment about it."

"I was there, I remember," Alistair said. "_Scandalous!"_

I looked at him and started to crack up, laughing until tears were pouring down my face as I remembered the mixture of shock and amusement he'd had on his face when he realized it was me in Daveth's tent years ago. "Who would have guessed," he said after a moment, echoing my thoughts. "You know I was completely terrified of you back then."

"We're even since I was just as terrified of you. I thought you'd panic, suspect I was possessed, and kill me in my sleep."

"I thought you _were_ possessed!" He sighed, grabbing me and Anders by the hands. "I was really worried about you both. I thought—"

"So did we," I said, cutting him off. "But I don't want to think about that now. I'm sure I'll have enough people asking me questions when we get home. I'd rather not go through it more than once."

He nodded and squeezed my hand. "Well, it's over now. I wish I had some sort of comforting Chant verse for you, but that's always been your job."

I chuckled. "I know. How odd, that of the two of us the mage is more religious than the former templar."

"Templar _in training_," he said. "But… yeah. I've given up on expecting anything _but_ odd from life, though."

At last we reached the Keep. I hopped down from the coach, thrilled to be home. Hearing a bark I looked and saw Isolde barreling towards me. Dropping to the ground I held my arms open for her. "I missed you, girl!" I exclaimed as she reached me and began licking my face. "I promise I'll never go on a trip without you again."

"I never understood why everyone else makes fun of your dogs," Fiona said, watching me. "I've seen a dog in battle. They're remarkable fighters, especially when paired with a mage or archer."

"Yes!" I said. "They really are, I mean, we wouldn't keep using them if they didn't work. Once I got used to fighting with a mabari I never wanted to fight without one again. I think we have some puppies no one has been imprinted on yet, let me know if you want to try for one."

"Maybe," she said. She had stopped listening to me, though. I could see her watching Alistair speaking with Anders and Oghren not far away. "He looks like his father," she said after a moment.

"That's what everyone says," I agreed. "You should tell him." She gave me a withering glance and, before I could reply, I was swamped by Wardens rushing over to greet me. When the crowd cleared I saw Rose and Roland talking with Alistair. He made a surprised face before grabbing Roland's arm and pumping it up and down, then lifting Rose clean off the ground in a hug. Fiona gave me a curious glance. "Roland was one of his knights," I said. "I don't think Alistair's seen him since he and Rose were married, though. He probably just found out." I glanced at Fiona. "Rose is fantastic. I offered her the Peak, she didn't want it. Prefers to be in the field. If I'd recruited her ten years later she could have ended up the next Commander, though."

"Not now?"

I shrugged. "I've only got four years as a Warden on her. Wouldn't make any sense. She's named in the paperwork that lists who will take over if something happens to me, my lieutenant, Anders, and Sigrun, though."

"Not Oghren?"

I sighed. "Oghren's drinking problem is too severe," I said. "I love him dearly, he's one of my closest friends... But no, I don't think he could manage running a small garrison, much less the entire order in Ferelden."

I had barely climbed to my feet before a blue and grey blur nearly knocked me back over. "Are you all right?" Jowan demanded, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Please tell me you're all right. You know Alistair won't let us attack those bastards?"

"I'm all right," I insisted.

He looked at me closely. "No," Jowan said after a moment. "You're not." I had no idea how he determined that just by looking at me. He sighed and pulled me closer to him. "I'm so sorry, Mags. I wish I'd been there to help."

"I'm all right," I insisted again once Jowan had released me. He just shook his head before reaching into a pocket. "Here," he said, handing me a folded piece of paper. "Somehow little Maggie managed to overhear enough to piece together that you got hurt so she drew this for you." I unfolded the paper and grinned. It was a drawing of four stick figures that were evidently supposed to represent Jowan, his wife, Anders and myself.

"You'll have to thank her for me," I said. "I'll put this right on our mantle."

"We're really not going after them?" he said finally.

"How can we?" I asked. "They outnumber us ten to one. Maybe more. We'd be slaughtered. I'm not asking everyone to throw themselves on a sword over this. We're free, and we're home. That's enough for now."

He sighed. "You're right but… it just doesn't feel fair."

I glanced up at him. "Zevran knows," I said with a sly grin.

Jowan blinked a few times and then smiled back at me. "At least we know they'll get theirs, then," he said finally.

After Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Varel finished grabbing me and welcoming me back, I introduced Fiona. Nathaniel welcomed her to Ferelden, and Varel gestured to a servant. "Have the room between the Commander and Warden Nathaniel's made up," he instructed, "and bring Warden Fiona's things to it." He turned to Fiona then. "We can get started on staffing and equipping the peak whenever you're ready," the seneschal told her. "I'll begin looking for candidates for your seneschal and guard captain immediately." He looked immensely relieved. "We're almost out of bedrooms here, so getting the Peak running means we can begin recruiting again."

"You have a room free among the Senior Wardens, though," she asked, confused.

"It was Anders' room," I explained. "We just never backfilled it since I didn't want anyone fighting. The rooms in that section are larger than the others."

We all began heading inside finally. It was, after all, nearly winter. "I'm tempted to make you swear to never leave Ferelden again," Nathaniel said, smiling slightly.

"Hand me the Chant, I'll put my hand on it and swear right now," I said. "Nothing short of a blight will get me to leave. Unless the next Warden meeting is in Tevinter. I can deal with going there."

He chuckled. "You're really all right?"

"I'll live," I said. "I can't say I've been through worse, since I haven't. But… I'm not dead. And I won't act like I am, that's what they would want me to do."

"It is," he agreed. "Are you hungry? You just missed dinner." I looked over at him and Nathaniel laughed. "Right." He gestured to a servant and gave orders they have the cook make us something. Since we had such a large group we settled in the dining room.

I ended up sitting between Anders and Alistair. Anders and Jowan were deep in conversation, their heads bent close together. Jowan had his hand on Anders' shoulder and a sympathetic look on his face. I decided it was something I didn't _want_ to listen in to. Fiona ended up across from us. As soon as we were seated Alistair began tossing questions at her. What was Weisshaupt like, was being a Warden in other countries different from being one here, what did she think of Ferelden so far, had she ever been here before… she couldn't even answer since as soon as one question was out he'd follow it with another.

"Maker's breath," I said, noticing the look of panic on her face. "She's been in Ferelden for half a day. Give her a moment."

"Right," he laughed. "Sorry. I never got a chance to meet any of the Wardens from outside Ferelden… I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous that Maggie's always getting to meet people and go places." Alistair made a face then. "Well, not this _last _trip but—"

"Got it, Alistair," I said, stopping him. "So, how is Elissa?"

He sighed. "She keeps hitting me almost every time I see her now. Which isn't as much as I'd like, even with the punches, but Wynne has her lying in bed all the time. She's just able to get up a couple times a day to stretch her legs."

"Is everything all right?" Anders asked, breaking off his conversation with Jowan suddenly.

"Fine, I guess," Alistair said. "Wynne was saying something about twins being riskier and not wanting to take any chances."

Anders nodded. "That's smart. With something like this it's better to be safe." Jowan made a sound of agreement and he and Anders returned to their conversation.

"Well, I'm getting sick of her saying '_this is all your fault'_ and punching me every time I do see her. But I suppose I can't complain too much, I mean, she's the one who has to give birth. It wouldn't be as bad if she didn't burst into tears after and apologize immediately after. I just don't know how to react."

"Just nod, apologize frequently, and say 'yes, sweetheart,'" Jowan suggested, glancing up. "That's what I did when Nora was pregnant."

"That's what I do. She told me if I did any more nodding she'd shave my head in my sleep." He made a horrified face.

"When is she due?" Fiona asked after a moment.

"Not long after Wintersend. But Wynne warned it might be early since there's two of them." He shrugged. "I can't claim to understand how it works. I just listen to the healer and do whatever she tells me. Which is usually 'Alistair, would you get out of my way and stop hovering.'" He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I suppose I'm a bit nervous." I looked over at him. "All right, more than a bit. I just hope I'm a good father."

"You'll be a fantastic father," I said. "When we were all in Denerim last that's all any of us could say, what a great father you'll be."

He looked over at me. "So... you, raised by the Circle, Anders and Zevran the fatherless bastards—"

"Hey! Takes one to know one!"

"I'm not denying it!" Alistair said. "Leliana, who, from what I recall never knew her father, and Wynne who was an orphan all decided I'd be a good father. Based on... your extensive experience with fathers?"

I shrugged. "Well... step one is don't die or disappear. If you manage that you're a step up on all of our fathers." He rolled his eyes at me. "Come on, the fact that you care enough to even be worried means you'll probably do fine. And kids love you."

"I hope you're right," he said.

Aidan ran in, grabbing Anders and I in a hug. "You're not allowed to leave Ferelden again!" he said.

Alistair looked at him and grinned after we finished greeting him. "You know, your cousin will be the death of me," he told the mage.

"What did she do now?"

"She threatened to gut Bann Cerolic in the middle of a council meeting."

Aidan laughed. "That sounds like her."

"In all fairness, I've made the same threat," I said. "The man's an ass."

Alistair sighed. "I just can't keep buying her presents every time she says whatever I'm thinking but can't get away with speaking out loud. People will start to talk!"

"So buy me presents," Aidan said.

"Somehow I suspect that would just make the gossip even more colorful," Alistair said with a grin.

"Well, give Shianni my love," Aidan said, laughing.

"I will," he agreed. "From an appropriately chaste and polite distance." He glanced at me. "She wants you to come visit her when you get a chance, too," Alistair added. "We were in a meeting together about the alienage when I found out what happened."

"Something wrong with the alienage?" I asked.

"Oh no," he said. "Having cobblestones put in this spring, we were working out a timetable. No idea why it hasn't been done yet. Everywhere else in Denerim has them." He made a face. "I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but really, Maric or Cailan… well, there's a lot of things they should have done years ago." Alistair sighed, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Cailan was a fool, but Maric should have done more. They were rebuilding the country from scratch. I'll never understand why the old way of doing things wasn't scrapped along with everything else. Oh well," he added, demeanor becoming more cheerful. "I suppose that's one of those things I'd have to be a _real_ noble to understand, and not just a by-blow. Or so Cerolic said."

"He's an ass," I said. "And I can't believe he called you that to your face. Is that even allowed? Isn't that treason?"

Alistair laughed. "He didn't, he said it to Eamon. Eamon told me. And it's not like he's _wrong,_ after all. What was it you called me? 'A royal bastard in every sense of the term?' I'm not about to make being _honest_ treason."

"True," I agreed, on edge about the direction the conversation was heading. "But I was pretty mad you didn't tell me for so long. You know, since it was half the reason we were being hunted across the country like animals."

"No argument from me," Alistair said. "You were right, I was just in denial. And Cerolic's just grumpy since I decided not to fill the arling of Denerim and he wanted it. Plus, his land borders the Dalish and apparently I'm supposed to make sure they act appropriately meek." He rolled his eyes and I snorted with laughter.

"We're going to see the Dalish soon," I commented. "Set up a small garrison down there."

"Keeper Lanaya will be thrilled," Alistair said. "When she was in Denerim last she told me you're her favorite human. Just because I don't know any spells I can teach them I'm stuck in second place." He sighed theatrically. "The story of my life."

"So says the king!" Anders laughed.

"Hey, only king because the first choice died," Alistair said. "I was apparently the Theirin safety net. Who knows, maybe there's half a dozen more out there somewhere. Big blonde guys with goofy noses and a love of fine cheese, all standing around in wait just in case I fall off the roof or something."

Oghren laughed. "Hey Sparklefingers, you never met your pop, did you?"

"Nope," Anders said. I stomped down on his foot under the table. He coughed and gave me a quick glance. "I'd think my mother would have mentioned if he was royalty, though." Well, I was hoping he'd take my hint to _change_ the subject, but that was better than nothing.

"I always said you two could be brothers," Ronan said. "And not just because you both tell some of the worst jokes I've ever heard."

"All right," I said, cutting off the conversation before Fiona bolted from the room. Sitting across from Alistair would have to be bad enough without hearing all sorts of rumors that the father of your only child was a philanderer. "You all know the 'Anders and Alistair look alike' discussion isn't allowed. That's just… wrong."

"What about the 'Maggie and Jowan look alike' discussion," Ronan said.

"No," Anders snapped. "I don't want to think of him when I look at her, either."

Eventually the meal wound down and everyone decided to get some sleep. Fiona followed me upstairs while Anders took our dogs outside. "This is an impressive building," she said, passing through the main hall.

"It was all but destroyed a few years ago," I explained. "The ground floor had to be completely redone. The bulk of it dates back to before the unification of Ferelden, though. It's one of the oldest fortresses in the country."

She nodded, glancing around. "This is your room," I said when we arrived. "Until you feel ready to move to the Peak, at least." I walked into my sitting room, she followed me in and I gestured to one of the chairs, building a fire before sitting down.

Fiona raised an eyebrow at me. "Any orders to that end? You are my commanding officer now, after all."

I laughed. "No, I don't really give orders." She gave me a blank look. "If I give someone a responsibility it's because I think they're capable of making whatever decisions are needed. I mean, if you want advice I'm happy to offer it, but ultimately it's up to you and I'll trust your judgment. I mean, if the First Warden trusts you to represent him, who am I to question that?"

"Well, what would your advice be?" she asked, sounding curious.

I shrugged. "Get to know some of the people here. More than a few of the Wardens are ready to take on more responsibility, but I don't have a job for them here. I can try and think of some specifics tomorrow if you want. Find someone who can handle the day to day training, things like that. Things will probably remain fairly fluid between the there and the Keep, with people moving back and forth all the time, since we're so close. It's not days away like Denerim or Redcliff, after all. You'll probably want to do most of the Joinings for any new recruits here, too, so feel free to plan on keeping that room for whenever you're here. Travel can get rough in the winter. But, we have a deep roads entrance under our basement so you'll never have to worry about finding darkspawn to kill." I laughed slightly. "Actually, popping down there to thin the numbers is practically sport around here."

"Convenient," she said. I nodded. "That makes sense. It is what I planned to do, but I didn't know how you would feel about anyone moving there from here. I didn't know how territorial you were about your own people."

"We're all one order," I said. "I can think of a few who won't _want_ to go- Jowan and Oghren, for instance, since there's no separate housing for Wardens with families at the Peak and they're both married to women outside the order and have kids. Unfortunately both of their kids are named after _me_, which just makes things extra confusing whenever one of them gets in trouble." Fiona actually cracked a smile at that. I was surprised, it may have been the first time I'd seen the expression on her face. She looked ten years younger for just a moment. "Nathaniel is my second in command, and he's involved with Sigrun, so neither of them would leave. Anders, obviously. Other than that, just ask around. If you want my opinions on anyone when you have it narrowed down just ask."

"What are your rules?" she asked after a moment. "Obviously you aren't concerned with fraternization…"

"Noticed that?" I laughed. "I don't really do rules, either. I suppose I'm not much of a commander, I just hog the big bedroom and point everyone at whatever needs to die. Rules… hm." I sat back, trying to think. "Never call me by a title, I hate that. I expect everyone to treat each other with respect. Obviously that includes their fellow Wardens, but also all the staff here. Not just the guards or the higher ranking staff, but the maids, the cooks, the girls in the scullery, that sort of thing too. I figured that was common decency, but given how I've seen some people treat their employees it seemed smart to make sure it was spelled out in advance. I don't like anyone walking around acting like they're better than anyone else and I won't hesitate to remind anyone who starts that they're in an order that happily welcomes thieves, murderers and maleficar. But really, as long as you're not a lunatic or an ass or a bigot and you show up ready and able to work when there's darkspawn to be killed I'm happy."

"Simple enough," she said. "You basically just demand everyone act like a remotely decent person."

"Pretty much. It's easier that way. I don't have any interest in ruling over people's private lives as long as it doesn't affect their job."

"You are a blood mage," she said. I nodded. "I am not. I've thought about it but… being a mage is difficult enough in this world. The added complications seemed too much."

"Understandable," I said.

"You wouldn't require anyone to learn?"

"Maker, no," I said. "No, absolutely not. If someone asks me I'll teach them, but I won't even offer without prompting since I don't want to put anyone on the spot. It's far too… sensitive an issue. Only four of our mages are, including me, and only one learned after becoming a Warden."

"So if I have someone who wants to learn?"

"Send them to me. I'll teach them, or Jowan will. He's a better teacher than me, really, but he's got a bit of a guilt thing about it so he doesn't _like_ teaching people."

"All right," she said, glancing around the room. "This is very nice. That painting, is it from the third blight?"

"Second," I said. "And you don't really care about the paintings or hearing all my rules or anything like that right now." She shrugged slightly, not meeting my glance. "Look, I honestly had _no idea_ Alistair planned to meet us at the harbor. I swear if I had I would have warned you well in advance."

"I know," she said. "It was… I wasn't ready for that. But I could tell you were just as surprised as anyone to see him there."

"Well, if anything he'll assume you were nervous because of his title. Most people are, after all."

Fiona nodded. "He's so much younger looking than the drawing let on," she said after a moment. "Handsome, though. That's what everyone said when he took the throne, but it's true. He has his father's smile." She looked lost in thought. "Thank you for not telling him," she said finally.

"I didn't do it for you," I said. "I did it for him. I broke his heart once when I spared Loghain, I have no interest in hurting him like that ever again. If he finds out and it's not because you want to be part of his life it would destroy him."

"Well, for whatever reason, thank you," Fiona repeated. "I may tell him. Some day. But I can't, not yet."

"You must see now that he wouldn't care that you're an elf or a mage," I said.

"I'm just not ready," she said.

I sighed. "Fine. I told you I wouldn't pressure you and I won't. You know my feelings on the subject, I'll leave it at that. No one here knows besides Anders and myself, and no one will know until you decide to tell them."

She nodded. I could hear dogs barking and, a moment later, Anders walked in with a small menagerie following behind him. Not just the dogs, but his cat as well. Isolde ran over and set her head on my lap, I automatically reached down to scratch behind her ears. "Your dogs sleep in your bedroom?" Fiona asked, sounding slightly horrified. We both stared at her blankly.

"Where else would they sleep?" Anders asked after a moment.

"It gets a lot colder here at night than you're probably used to," I said. "They're great to help keep warm." She looked, if anything, even _more _horrified. Maybe she thought they would make a mess. "They're not puppies," I assured her. "Both are fully trained. This is as big as they'll get." Really, considering Isolde was easily over a hundred and fifty pounds and Ser Barks close to two, I couldn't imagine how much bigger she expected them to grow.

"That… wasn't my point," she said, standing up. Offering us a slight grin she added "I suppose I momentarily forgot that I was in Ferelden." Wishing us goodnight she left, closing the door behind her. I could hear her muttering "Crazy Fereldans" under her breath as she walked to her room.

"What was that all about?" Anders asked scratching his dog's ears while Ser Pounce a Lot batted at one of the belts of his robe. I shrugged, not having any more of an idea than he did.

* * *

_Not much going on here, but I wanted a chance to do a bit of "Alistair and Maggie acting like idiots" after all the darkness of the last few chapters. This late-night update brought to you by insomnia!_

Thanks so much to all my reviewers. Knowing people are reading keeps me writing this. :)  



	79. He's got surprisingly sharp teeth

The next morning Alistair joined Anders and I in our sitting room. Once the tea had been delivered Anders locked the door and we sat near the fire. "How do you want this handled?" Alistair asked us. "I'm not promising I'll be able to do what you want, but I need your thoughts."

"I want it kept quiet," I said quickly. They both gawked at me. "What?"

"_You_ want this kept quiet?" Alistair looked surprised.

"Silent," I said. "Too many people know already." I sighed. "This isn't Maggie speaking, this is the Commander of the Grey. How would it look if people found out I was able to be overpowered and held captive by someone? For _weeks_. This isn't getting attacked and showing up a day later to prove I'm fine and won the fight. How much confidence would that inspire in my ability to protect Ferelden? I can't afford to look weak."

"Maggie, they can't get away with this," Anders said.

"You think that's up to us?" I said. "I'm only free so long as I'm not acting against Warden interests. Letting people know how easily two of the most senior Wardens in Ferelden were hurt would make us look weak. Normal people don't realize how much a templar can hurt a mage, they wouldn't understand, we'd just look incompetent. I can't have that."

Anders grumbled, pushing his hair back. "Fine," he said. "I don't like it but… fine."

"Anders," I began.

"No, I understand," he said before I could go on. "I don't _like _it… but you're right. It's Anders who doesn't like it. The Grey Warden knows you're right."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Well, this is why you're the boss," he said. "If it was me I'd be standing in the middle of the Amaranthine marketplace ranting to anyone who would listen."

I sipped my tea, pulling my legs up. They deserved to know the full reason why I wanted this kept quiet. "I… Look, people know what happens to women captured by templars…" Sighing, I closed my eyes for a moment. "It's bad enough it happened, I don't want people to know. I don't want anyone to look at me and think of that." I wiped my eyes. "I'm sorry. That is me being selfish."

"No it's not," Anders said, sliding over and putting his arms around me. "I should have thought of that. Whatever you want to do is fine." I sniffled, leaning against him and feeling stupid. "It's all right," he said.

"It's just… people are already looking at me differently. I hate it."

"It's only because they love you," Anders said.

Alistair walked over, sitting on my other side and putting an arm around me. "We can drop this for now, Mags," he said quietly. "We don't need to decide anything now."

"Sorry," I said once I'd regained control of myself.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Alistair said. "I shouldn't be pushing you to decide on this so soon."

"What do you want to do?" Anders asked.

"Honestly? I just want to get back to work."

"Well, get to it, then. I'm sure there's a stack of paper on your desk as tall as Oghren."

I chuckled, standing up and kissing him. Hugging Alistair as well, I headed down to my office. I tried not to notice that Anders shut the door once more as soon as I'd left the room.

Tossing myself at the piles of papers, I quickly lost track of time, even eating lunch as I set up garrison plans, and trip schedules, until Aidan poked his head into my office asking if I planned to work through dinner.

"It's that late?" I said. He laughed, nodding.

"So, what's the deal with that Fiona?" he asked me as we walked to the dining hall.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "She was one of the top people at Weisshaupt, representing the First Warden at the summit, but I heard she wanted to relocate back south so I made her an offer."

"Hm," he said. "She gave me the third degree today."

"She's looking for someone to handle training the mages at the Peak, I suppose," I said.

"So that involved asking me about the King?" he laughed.

Ah. I tried to think of a reasonable explanation. "I think she's curious about how close he is to people here. It's easy to forget he was once just Alistair the Grey Warden when you meet him as His Majesty King Alistair Theirin."

He seemed to buy that. Hopefully my relief wasn't too obvious. "I don't want to go to the Peak," he said after a moment. "I like it here. All my friends are here. I can tell that's part of what she was asking about."

"So don't go to the Peak," I said. "No one's getting moved anywhere against their will. I told Fiona there were plenty of people here who were capable of doing a lot more, but I just didn't have a job for them. You're one of the names I mentioned. If you did move it would be to become the senior mage there and handle the training. But you don't have to."

"You won't be upset if I say no?"

I glanced over at him. "Honestly? I'd rather keep you here. You're my friend, and you're a good mage, and ultimately I'm pretty selfish. But I'd feel like a jerk if I didn't give you a chance at taking on more responsibility if you wanted it."

He grinned at me as we took seats with Anders and Alistair. "Yeah. Responsibility and me… we're not always on the best of terms. Being a Warden I can do. Having to tell other people what to do? No thanks." I laughed at that. It wasn't exactly a surprise to me. Despite being senior to every mage in the Wardens, save myself and Anders, Aidan was, after all, still even younger than I'd been when I joined.

No further mention was made of our conversation from that morning. Instead Alistair made jokes and Anders at one point hit him in the head with a roll. Which, of course, led to Aidan, Alistair and I tossing bread as well. I suppose putting our best face forward to impress our new transfer from Weisshaupt was forgotten. She watched us from the other end of the table and shook her head, but I was sure I caught her giggling out of the corner of my eye.

Alistair was still at the Keep the next day, to my shock. And the day after, and the day after that as well. He didn't seem to have any specific reason. Every morning I'd walk from my bedroom to my office and find him already sitting in the main hall, making conversation with anyone who passed by. On the fifth day of his extended visit Anders popped his head into my office while the two of us were talking. I figured, since he was there, I would bug him about strategic garrison locations… which mostly amounted to occasional cities being named between the two of us making jokes.

"Hey honey," I said, looking up and grinning.

Anders walked over and kissed me. "Actually, I'm here to bug Alistair. Mind if I steal him away?"

"Sure," I shrugged.

The two of them went off and I returned to actually attempting to get work done. Sigrun walked in perhaps two hours later, sitting on my desk. "So," she said. I set my pen down and looked up at her. "You do know Anders, Alistair, Oghren, Jowan _and_ Nathaniel have been locked up in your room all day with someone who arrived this afternoon, right?"

"Nooooo," I said. "What are they doing? And who arrived this afternoon?"

"Someone in a cloak," she said. "Hood up. Nathaniel grabbed them as soon as they were through the gate, that's all anyone knows."

"Oh, really," I said, raising my eyebrow. "Do you know what they're doing?" She shook her head. I cursed and stood up, nearly knocking my chair over. Sigrun followed behind me as I headed towards the stairs.

"Comman—, er, Maggie, do you have a moment?" Fiona asked when I reached the second floor.

"Sure," I said. "Just let me go kill my husband, lieutenant, and the king of Ferelden, and then I'm all yours." She fell into step with Sigrun. I found the door bolted when I arrived. "Open up," I ordered, pounding on it. The murmur of conversation inside suddenly cut off. I pounded again, there was only silence.

"Bastards," I cursed. Casting a quick spell, I took two steps back before raising my leg and kicking the door as hard as I could. It cracked, but didn't budge. I kicked it again. The plaster around the door cracked slightly but the door remained solid.

"Fine," I heard Anders say from the other side. A moment later the bolt slid back and the door opened. I nearly knocked him over storming in.

"Secret meetings in my Keep?" I said, glaring at them. "What is this? Have you decided I'm no longer fit for duty? If I'm being replaced at least have the decency to let me know to my damned face."

Anders groaned. "I knew this would happen," he said.

"You're not being replaced," Nathaniel said. "This… doesn't concern you."

"_Bullshit," _I snapped. I walked further into the room, Fiona and Sigrun following. Turning, I could see the final person in the room, hidden until then by the high back of a chair. And everything began to fall into place.

"_Bellissima_," Zevran said, quickly walking over to me and pulling me into a hug. "I'm so sorry. Don't worry, they will pay."

I sighed. "Thank you, Zevran. But since I am still Commander could one of you perhaps fill me in? Did all of you decide to get together and plan revenge since poor little Maggie can't handle it?"

Zevran returned to his seat, I sat next to Anders and noticed the table was spread with notes in several different hands, most written in Antivan, and multiple maps of Orlais. "Actually," he said, "I'm hard at work. It just so happens that this job is something I've taken a… _personal_ interest in."

"Your doing?" I looked at Alistair.

"No," Zevran answered for him. "I have a policy of not accepting multiple contracts for the same job. Someone else beat our friend Alistair to hiring the Crows." Fiona drew in a sharp breath, looking more closely at Zevran. I groaned.

"Fiona, this is Zevran Arainai, a close friend of ours. He fought alongside Alistair and I during the blight, and was with me when I faced the archdemon. He's also, um…" I trailed off, not sure how to explain his job.

Zevran smiled. "When I'm not running the Crows in Ferelden I'm his majesty's top spy and assassin."

"You are not," Alistair said.

"I most certainly am, unless you've hired someone else to take over for me. You can give me whatever title you like, but I have no illusions about what I do."

"Zev, this is Fiona, she recently transferred to Ferelden from Weisshaupt Fortress." He stood and kissed her hand with a wink. She rolled her eyes at him. Zevran also nodded in greeting to Sigrun, having the good sense not to flirt with her while Nathaniel's arm was over her shoulders. "Now will one of you please tell me what is going on?"

Nathaniel sighed, handing me a sheet of paper. Sigrun stood, walking over. She moved to read over my shoulder, cursing when she saw it was in code. I could hear Fiona whispering in her ear. Scanning it, I quickly translated the code as I read.

_Senior Warden Nathaniel Howe-  
As I write this we are unsure of the fate of Warden Commander Margaret and Senior Warden Anders of Ferelden. While we cannot openly move against the Chantry in a way the public would connect to the order, we also cannot let an offense of this magnitude go unpunished. To that end, I have made arrangements with an organization that can assist us in this matter. Their Ferelden representative will contact you shortly. You will know him as one of the men who faced the archdemon with Commander Margaret.  
I want everyone who so much as glanced at our sister and brother during their captivity seen to. I want every building where they were held turned into an unmistakable message. I want the Chantry to know the Grey Wardens are not to be trifled with.  
Should the Maker smile on us and return them to safety I expect you to handle this with the utmost discretion. I have known enough apostates in my years within the order to have some idea of what they may be going through. The Chantry's infamous reputation when it comes to the treatment of mages in captivity, particularly female mages, is well deserved. I do not wish either of them to be unduly burdened. I won't mince words, Commander Margaret, or more specifically, her reputation, is of great importance to the order. You and I both know this. Should she return… unable to function as a Grey Warden, please work to ensure she will at least recover enough to function as the public face of the order in Ferelden. Should even that prove impossible please remember a dead hero is of far more use than a broken one._

_If the worst comes to pass I trust you to take over as Warden Commander of Ferelden._

_First Warden Etzel_

"Son of a bitch," I muttered.

"This has certainly gotten Etzel's attention," Fiona said. "He normally wouldn't touch the Crows with a twenty foot pole." She glanced at Zevran and added "no offense."

"None taken," he said, smiling. "Most people say they would never touch an assassin right up until the very moment they find themselves in need of an assassin. Maggie herself said much the same thing… well, figuratively speaking, of course. She never had a problem with touching this particular Crow in a much more _literal_ sense."

"Zevran…" Anders said, a tone of warning in his voice.

"All in the past, of course," Zevran said. "I would never dream of attempting to put asunder what the Maker has joined together." He snickered and Anders rolled his eyes.

"So… is there any particular reason you thought telling me about this would… unduly burden me?" I asked Nathaniel. "Am I that fragile?"

He looked over at me and sighed. "Maggie, how long have we known each other? How long have I been your second in command? I can tell when you're just putting on a brave face. Even if I didn't have your husband and three oldest friends telling me the same thing," he gestured to Jowan who shrugged, blushing slightly. "I just didn't want to make you think about any of this since it's fairly obvious you'd rather pretend nothing happened."

I nodded. "I would," I said. "But I can't. I'll have to face it sooner or later. So… talk to me. What's going on?" I moved over so Fiona could sit. She ended up between Alistair and myself, but I really wasn't able to worry about that at the moment. "I'm slightly more concerned about the whole 'make sure she's sane enough to be trotted out for the anniversaries of the blight, and if that can't happen kill her' bit, to be honest. Should I be watching over my shoulder?"

"Don't be an idiot," Nathaniel said. "You've always been insane. It never seemed to keep you from being able to do your job before."

"It is quite the contrast," I mused. "Make them pay. But… if she's useless kill her quietly yourself."

Fiona sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "Now you see how Weisshaupt functions," she said. "The offense is to the order. Don't fool yourselves into thinking they care about any one individual Warden. Even the famous Hero of Ferelden is only important so long as she is useful."

"Great," I muttered. "Well… I promise, if any of you go slobbering mad I'll make sure you have a comfy bed and someone to feed you soup for the rest of your days. Not quite sure how we'll send a crazy person on the Calling, but I suppose we can cross that bridge if we come to it."

"Poison," Nathaniel said.

"Pardon?"

"Poison in the soup. If someone goes crazy. Sending a lunatic into the Deep Roads when they don't know or understand why would just be cruel." He sighed. "Well, more cruel than sending all of us when we're fully aware of why."

"I am _horrified_ that you came to that decision so quickly," Anders said.

"You honestly think I would have let anyone kill either of you, even if the Chantry did manage to turn you into drooling lunatics?"

"Thanks, Nathaniel," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "That's sweet of you. Creepy, but sweet."

"That's my job," he chuckled.

Fiona cleared her throat. "Unless I'm mistaken, we are not all Wardens here."

Alistair shrugged. "Someone had to help me figure out what to do. The King of Ferelden can't just disappear, after all, and healers are sure to notice most poisons."

"There are some that will mimic a natural death," Zevran said before turning to Fiona. "But… I assure you, I am the very _model_ of discretion," he smiled at her. "Your horrifying, horrifying secrets are quite safe with me."

"Can we _not_ discuss this right now?" Jowan asked. "At the moment I'd much rather talk about making other people dead, not our own unpleasant deaths."

"Agreed," I said.

Zevran laid out the maps and began detailing the information gathered. Descriptions of templars, areas they passed through, specific Chantries we were held in.

"Tonight this one will burn to the ground," he pointed. "This one tomorrow, and this the following day. Finally this building, near the Val Royeaux waterfront, will be destroyed." I nodded, smiling. "We have located and identified almost every templar who was involved. It seems the same group simply followed you from town to town as you were moved. The Maker will be able to judge them soon enough."

I looked up at him. "Zev, I want them to suffer," I said. He had always been staunchly opposed to making a mark's death any more painful than necessary, but hopefully this could be an exception.

He met my eyes and nodded. "I've already given the order." Zevran glanced back at his notes. "While the Divine is, of course, not a target at the moment, I've devised something that I feel will perhaps be even more effective." He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. "On the morning after the final building is destroyed she will wake to find her personal guard… indisposed. A dead Crow will be left on each one. Let her know we could have and didn't. Let her know we could at any time. She will never be able to admit to the breach of security, as it would call her infallibility into question, but the fear will gnaw at her. We've long since had a way in and out, since the Crows believe in being prepared, this is just the first time anyone has had occasion to use it."

"That's brilliant," Anders said, looking impressed.

"I suspect this will be my masterwork." He sighed dramatically. "How unfortunate that almost no one outside this room will ever hear of it."

"You're not angry?" Anders asked me. "About the whole assassination plan part, I mean. The other part… goes without saying."

"No," I said. "Something does need to be done. We _can't_ let them get away with this. The Wardens can't, and Ferelden can't. This is better than public statements and battles, since the public doesn't know." I sighed, looking down at my hands. "And really, I'm not about to question the First Warden's orders. You know that. The other part… it makes me sad, but I can't say I'm surprised. I've heard enough about Weisshaupt to know what we should expect. It horrifies me to think they may expect me to treat all of you like that, since Maker knows _that's_ not happening, but…" I shrugged. "It is what it is."

"How do _you_ feel about it, though," he asked. "Not the political implications. _You_."

"I want them dead," I said flatly. "And I want them to suffer. I want them to know we won't stand for this. I want them to… I don't know… I want them to regret ever touching us in the first place. I want the Divine to know what it's like to be afraid. So… yes. This is good. I only wish I could do it myself."

"Good," he said, running his hand across my back. "I was worried you wouldn't want us to do anything."

"No, just nothing… public."

"I wouldn't tell anyone about this," Fiona said after a moment.

"No, I wasn't planning on announcing that we hired assassins," I said, giving her a small grin.

She shook her head. "The attack, the kidnapping, all of it. I wouldn't speak a word. You're a Grey Warden, you can't have the public think you're weak. We must always appear strong, even if it's a false face. Especially you, being the Commander, being so famous in Ferelden. You should take pains to never appear as anything less than a powerful warrior. Although the First Warden's orders were… well, _insane,_ he is right in that regard. If you appear damaged and weak in public it is bad for us all."

"That's exactly what I said," I told her, glancing at Alistair. He shrugged. "Although I try not to look too… threatening in public. Since I'm also a mage, and having me as Commander and a member of the nobility is touchy enough. Looking fearsome would just complicate things on that front."

"Ugh," she muttered. "_Magic must serve man," _she began. "_And never rule over him," _Anders and I completed with her, matching the sing-song tone of voice she used. "I loathe that verse."

"You know," Alistair said, "if you ask me, it's saying magic should be used to help people and not control them. It says magic, after all, not mages. I don't think there's anything wrong with a mage being a noble, or Warden Commander, or anything else in that. As long as they're not using magic in the course of their job to control people."

"That's what I've always thought," I said.

"I certainly prefer that to the Chantry interpretation," Fiona said. "It is the same in Orlesian as well. The verse specifies magic, not mages."

"Well, there you go," Alistair said, pleased to have more proof he was right. He glanced over at me. "If I could I'd start a war over this. I wish I could, I want nothing more than a chance to publicly say we won't tolerate citizens of Ferelden being treated like this, that I won't tolerate my friends being treated like this. I won't drag you through all that, though… even if we had a chance of actually winning."

"You and I both know we don't," I said.

He nodded. "This will give me more reasons to delegate money towards expanding the army, at least," Alistair said. "So when they do come after us we're ready."

"Alistair," I began.

He cut me off. "Don't even say it," he warned. "I won't let them intimidate us. You're not stepping down as Bann. The Landsmeet wouldn't stand for it, anyways. And your freeholders would _riot_." He shrugged. "Besides, everyone would think it was just because of the Chantry, and I'd have even _more_ people demanding we do a full split than I already do."

"That many now?" I asked.

He nodded. "It's not you," he said. "It's the blight, I think. People were just as demanding of it after we won our independence back, going by the records I've seen. Defeating the blight so quickly has made everyone just as nationalistic as they were back then. It's given them a reason to be proud of their country. Everyone wants something to shout about for Ferelden, but people are using the ashes as a rallying cry now. Andraste was born here, laid to rest here, so we should base her church here." He shrugged. Alistair obviously didn't care one way or another, he was only concerned about what his people wanted.

"Why wouldn't they have been proud of their country before," I asked.

"See, the fact that you can say that with a straight face is exactly what makes you such a good noble," Anders said.

"She's always been like this," Zevran said. "Just _once _I made a joke about the treason charges against her… she almost cried. It was very disturbing. Especially since I'd only met her that afternoon. I wondered if I had joined up with a madwoman who would have me singing Ferelden folk songs and adoring dogs by the time the Blight was over."

"How _is_ your puppy?" Alistair asked, an impish grin on his face.

"She is just fine," Zevran said. "At the royal kennels, as you are well aware, my comedic friend." He turned to me. "And yes, I do blame you. I have a _mabari. _Can you see the absurdity in this? There is nothing more poorly suited to stealth than being followed by two hundred pounds of stinking barking fur. And there I am, making… silly voices to this creature."

Isolde, lounging in the corner on a cushion, looked up and snorted.

"Yes, yes," Zevran said. "Dogs are fantastic. There, I said it." He made a face at me and we all laughed. Even Fiona was chuckling. "Just wait," he turned on her. "Six months, a year, two years… sooner or later you'll have a dog following you along everywhere you go and find yourself humming some miserable tune about being oppressed by Chevalier and you will have no idea how any of it happened."

Zevran was wrong on that count, though. Both he and Alistair returned to Denerim the next day, and by the day after that Fiona had a dog of her own.

"What will you name him?" I asked her as we watched her puppy chase Isolde through some unusually late-season snow.

"Hafter," she said. The dog barked in approval.

"After the Alamarri teyrn?" I asked, confused. I didn't realize she had any interest in Ferelden history.

"The who?"

"Hafter was an Alamarri, the first to ever be named teyrn. He led them against the second blight. His foster father was Dane, and the legends say his real father was a werewolf."

"_What_?" she said, looking amused. "Are you serious?"

"Completely," I said. "There's a painting of him in my office. Why are you naming him Hafter if you've never even heard of him?"

She shook her head. "I don't even know what an Alamarri is," she said. "I had a friend, many years ago, with a dog named Hafter. That is who he is named after."

"We're the Alamarri," I said. "Or, what's left of them. Most united and became Ferelden. Some didn't, they're the Avvar in the mountains and the Chasind in the south. Almost every noble in Ferelden can trace their line back to Hafter."

"Ah," she said. "I don't know much Ferelden history. But Kell was Avvar. My friend. That would explain it, I suppose." Fiona looked at me. "A werewolf? Really?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"But there is no such thing," she laughed.

"There certainly is!" I said. "I've killed dozens myself. Horrid things."

"And… this man was part werewolf," she said, looking amused. "So… your nobility all say they are part werewolf?"

"That's the sum of it," I said.

"Are you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. I wasn't born to nobility, my parents were farmers. But, that's not to say somewhere down my family's line there isn't some noble's bastard. Given the way most of the nobility in this country behave it wouldn't shock me. You know, now that I think of it I bet Anders is… he's got surprisingly sharp teeth." I suddenly realized who I was talking to. "Um, why don't we forget I just said… well, all of that."

"Oh no," she said. "_Sharp teeth_? Why Commander, I had no idea. No wonder you have so many scars on your neck."

My hand flew up immediately. "I do not!"

"No," she agreed. "Yet you still felt the need to check." Fiona took off after her puppy, adding "Alain was right, you _are_ more entertaining than the Weisshaupt Wardens" over her shoulder.

* * *

_All sorts of interesting stuff today! I've got a new pic of Maggie and Anders done by Aimo http: /oi54. tinypic. com/ 28w2ux2. jpg and the first chapter of the Russian translation of Blue Skies that Suliven is working on was just posted, which I find so awesome. That's at http:/ www. fanfiction. net /s/ 6430535 /1/  
Thanks so much to all my reviewers! :D_


	80. Maybe we're not so much like unicorns

Sitting in my office, trying to finish the final arrangements for our trip to the Dalish, I looked up at the knock on the open door. Without waiting for a response, Rose entered and took a seat. "Can I go with you? I've always been curious to see the Dalish."

"Just you?"

She shrugged. "Well, Roland and I."

Pushing my hair back, I made a face. Rose got up, closing the door, and returned to her chair. "Out with it, Maggie. I know that look."

"You're an elf, and your husband is a human," I said.

"Wow, you don't say," she replied.

"You think the Dalish would smile on that?" I asked. "I mean, I don't care. _Obviously_ that sort of thing means nothing to me, and if you say you want to go, you'll go. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were walking into."

"And what would I be walking into?"

I shrugged, trying to remember back to my encounter with them. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. They were… coldly polite to me. Or hostile because I was a human in general, nothing specific about who I was involved with. The woman who is now the Keeper was absolutely wonderful, and although she's not the overall leader, we'll be working with her more than anyone."

"But?"

"But the moment they saw Zevran and I shared a tent he started hearing comments from more than a few people. I got dirty looks, but he was called a traitor. Sometimes worse. I don't know if they were quiet to me because I'm a warden and they respect the order, or because I'm a mage and they didn't want to get me _too_ angry, or even if it was just because I'm a human and they saw me as below notice, but…" I shrugged, pushing my hair back.

"Lovely," she said.

"You only want to go more," I said, closing my inkwell.

"I do," she admitted, grinning. "I shouldn't, but…"

"Being a troublemaker is fun?'

Rose laughed. "It really is! That's your influence."

"Well, go pack," I said. "We leave in three days. Don't cause _too _much trouble."

"Or Fiona will yell at us both." We both laughed at that. "Tell me the truth, Maggie… Did Weisshaupt send her to keep you in line?"

"Not at all!" I insisted. "I invited her to take over the peak. Since you wouldn't."

"I won't sit behind some desk," she said. "I need to _do_ something with myself."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Sitting behind a desk is hardly all I do. I also get to kill many things. I captured on occasion. And cause riots. And paw at my husband in public. The job has a great deal of variety."

"Only the first sounds appealing," she chuckled. "I can do without the riots and imprisonment. And I suspect if I laid a single finger on your husband you would kill me."

"I would," I agreed, smiling at her. "But… pray for our health," I laughed. "Since if me, Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Anders all get ourselves killed guess who's in charge."

She froze on the verge of making another joke. "You're kidding," Rose said after a moment.

"Absolutely not," I replied quickly. "And at that point I'd be dead so I wouldn't have to hear you complain. Be glad you didn't join fifteen years later or I'd have named you my successor."

"Wow," she said after a moment. "I don't know what to say…"

"Mad?"

"No," she said. "Surprised, though. Really surprised."

"You're _kidding_ me," I said. "I offer you first crack at almost any position of leadership that comes up, even though I know you'll just tell me you'd rather be out hunting down darkspawn than running some garrison."

Rose shrugged. "I'm still surprised. In a good way, though. I didn't realize how much you trusted me."

"Of course I do," I said. Rose just shook her head, wandering off not long after, still looking shocked.

We left a few days after the Wintersend celebrations. Fiona was slightly horrified by them, but I suppose I couldn't be surprised by that. I knew the Ferelden traditions were… unique. We all ate an enormous meal with lots of cheese before spending half the night dancing around the bonfire. The weather was horrid, something we were all thrilled by. "Why are you all going outside to dance in the snow?" Fiona had demanded.

"Because snow on Wintersend is good!" Rose said, rushing past her.

I nodded. "It means the old hag can't gather her firewood, so she'll have to let winter end soon."

"The _old hag?_" She stared at me. "What is this, the Glory age? Does the Chantry know you still do this?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Anders asked. "When I was growing up in Gwaren the Wintersend bonfire was always in the Chantry yard."

"Ferelden will be a very interesting nation once you become civilized," she mused.

"None of that!" I laughed, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door. "Come on, what do they do in Orlais for Wintersend?"

"The Chantry priests bless candles they pass out to parishioners."

"Boring," I replied. "Ours has ale." That got her attention. Since arriving Fiona had developed a great appreciation for Ferelden ales. Once I said that she pulled on her cloak and stomped outside behind everyone else. I opened the gates to any of the locals who wanted to join us, too. That was an old tradition from before the occupation, according to everything I'd read, and I liked the idea of reviving it. Really, a little ale and cheese was a small expense for how much goodwill we would get in exchange. So, we danced arm in arm until dawn with the farmers who lived closest to the keep, and the people who lived in what appeared to be the beginnings of a small village that had sprung up just outside our walls over the last couple years.

The ashes of the fire were still piled in the courtyard as we packed the wagon. Rose had decided the risk of being insulted by the Dalish was minimal and tossed her pack under the bench before sitting down. Runi paced the courtyard nervously. "Sit!" I told her after she passed me for the tenth time.

"Sorry," she said, hopping up. "I'm just nervous."

"Really?" I said. "I had no idea."

"You really think I'm ready for this?"

"I wouldn't have appointed you if I didn't," I reminded her. "I had been a Warden for a year less than you when I became Commander. You'll be fine." She nodded and sat down, still looking worried. I felt bad for her. She had joined with her best friend, and her best friend didn't survive. The Keep didn't hold many good memories for her, I hoped a change of venue might make things a bit better.

Our trip South was mostly uneventful. We were attacked by small bands of darkspawn several times, but I didn't feel too concerned about it. They were very tiny groups, nothing too dangerous, and probably drawn from nearby caves or even underground just by the presence of so many Wardens.

When we were only a day's ride from the Dalish lands I had everyone veer off-track briefly. "Should I come with you?" Anders asked.

"No," I said, grabbing the burlap sack I'd carried from the Keep. "I should do this alone." Well, almost alone, as Isolde, my near-constant shadow, padded along at my side.

He nodded and stood, leaning against the wagon as I walked into the white stone ruins. Snow still covered the ground in a deep blanket this far south. I was amazed by how much seemed intact after so many years. This was the first time I'd returned since the blight.

Walking to the gate that led to the main camp I paused, hands resting on the wood. It was right here that someone saluted me for the first time, the guard who had opened the gate so I could pass. I had been so confused that I spun around, wondering what important person was following me. The land beyond was a great field of white, marked by the occasional tracks of forest animals and what might have been darkspawn. I would never be able to tell where we had been.

Turning back to the remains of the king's camp I glanced around. _There_. Hiking through the snow I was surprised to find I could still close my eyes and picture exactly as everything had been laid out. Here was the king's tent, there was Loghain's. The kennel where Dane had been recuperating, the mess tent table where Daveth and I sat sharing our worries about what the Grey Wardens would do to us the next morning, the ruins where I met Alistair for the first time… I passed dozens of small landmarks as I walked across Ostagar.

The old temple ruins: a shrine to an old god, one of the strange Tevinter dragon deities. How apt that it was here I began my life as a Grey Warden. I didn't know if it was to one specific god, or all of them. I suppose no one would ever know, there simply wasn't enough left of the building to tell.

Casting the burlap sack aside I glanced around, leaning against the wall. Deciding I had found the location where Duncan stood, holding the chalice, I carefully placed the wreath of dried Andraste's Grace and cornflowers on the ground and kneeled. "_Draw your last breath, my friends, Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be Forgiven." _Standing, I whispered "_in war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice" _andsaluted briefly, adding "until I join you," before turning to leave.

As I walked through the ruins someone called out to me. "Is someone else here?"

"In the King's camp," I called back in reply.

A tattooed man stepped out from around a corner, dark colored mabari painted with pale kaddis at his side. "I'm sorry if I startled you," he said. "I fought. In the battle. Whenever I'm in the area I like to stop here and remember my friends." He looked me over. "Did you lose a relative in the battle?"

"No," I said. "Well, not as such. I lost my brothers, but they weren't related by blood." He gave me a strange look and I turned slightly to display the dual griffin emblem on the shoulder of my cloak.

"Grey Warden?" he asked. I nodded. "My apologies then, I meant no offense."

I shrugged. "You caused no offense, so no apology is needed. I know only a handful of women fought in the battle. I was here, too, after all."

He paused, looking at me more closely. "But the only Grey Wardens who survived were… Maker's breath! That means you're…"

"Warden Commander Margaret," I said quickly, before he could fill in the blanks with one of my more ostentatious titles.

"Commander Tomas of the Ash Warriors," he said after a pause, nodding at me once he seemed to realize I didn't want to be fawned over. Saying something about being honored to meet me, he excused himself to return to his fellows who had been waiting outside. I replied with something I hoped was appropriately polite and did the same. I felt better as I left knowing Alistair and I weren't the only survivors who still remembered. I relayed the story to Anders as we continued on to the Dalish lands.

"Someone else was wandering around Ostagar?" he said, surprised. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He glanced at me. "Well, you haven't been… I mean, since we got back, whenever you met strange men…"

Blinking in surprise I glanced at him. "You're right," I said, shocked. "I'm fine, though. I_ was_ fine, too. I didn't even think about it…"

"That's good," Anders said, resting a hand on my leg and beaming at me. "I knew it was only a matter of time." I smiled and looked out at the road.

We reached the Dalish the next day. I could see smoke in the distance, campfires or chimneys, and was pondering the distance when two archers stepped into the road, blocking our path. Anders pulled back on the reigns, bringing the wagon to a halt. Rose did likewise in the wagon behind us, the horses making a noise of protest. "You have entered the sovereign Dalish lands, state your business."

"Grey Wardens, here by invitation from Keeper Lanaya."

The man who spoke, apparently the lead scout, said something to his associates before turning back to us. "Andaran atish'an, Wardens," he said before offering directions.

Hopping down in the middle of a circle of small round huts, I waived seeing the familiar figure of Lanaya walking towards us. She called out "aneth ara" before taking my hands in hers in greeting. I introduced the others quickly. She was, not surprisingly, especially interested in the elf Wardens, although it became more than obvious after only a moment that Fiona had no patience for her questions. I saw her jaw tense briefly when she realized Rose and Roland were a couple, but Lanaya didn't say anything. I didn't know if the other Dalish would be so polite, though.

She led us to a small wooden building on the edge of the encampment. "Your husband," she whispered to me. "He is… not entirely human, is he?"

"You can tell?" I said, surprised.

She nodded. "Sometimes. I take it I'm right?"

"You are," Anders spoke up. "I get my fantastic hearing from my mother." She then began to assault him with question after question about what it was like to be half-human, if his mother's family accepted him, if he felt accepted by other humans, and on… "No, I can't say I'm particularly accepted by most humans," Anders said, sounding amused. "But then, that's more due to my being able to shoot lightning from my fingertips than any disdain on account of my parentage. Most people judge me on that well before learning anything else." He shrugged. "I suppose I got trouble for it as a boy, but among mages things like that don't matter, so once I ended up in the Circle it wasn't an issue."

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed he couldn't answer her questions in any more detail. "I'd forgotten… your people don't acknowledge that magic is a gift." Lanaya shook her head. "I will never understand that."

I only nodded in reply, there wasn't much I could say, after all.

After getting Runi set up in what would be our small compound, with the half-dozen Wardens who would be joining her, I spent a couple hours with Anders and Fiona, teaching Lanaya the arcane warrior spells.

Returning to the main encampment, I saw the Warden hopefuls sitting with Rose and Roland around a fire. There were plenty of permanent structures here, small round huts, but the Dalish seemed to treat them as they did aravels. Someplace to sleep and keep your stuff, with most of your time spent outside. Before I could take my own seat I saw Rose fly from hers, both daggers drawn. Moving almost faster than I could see, she pinned one of the Dalish to the ground, her foot to their neck. "How about you say that again, this time to my face," she hissed. "You think I can't hear you whispering about me?"

Sighing, I sat down, watching the scene unfold. Anders and Fiona both looked at me, I shrugged. From what I could tell this was a very personal argument. "Did you warn her?" Anders whispered to me. I nodded. "Well, did you warn _them?"_

"_That _I didn't do," I said. "Should I have? I mean, are Grey Wardens known for their gentle good natures?"

"I am," he said. I made a face at him and we continued to watch the two women face off. Which wasn't much of a face off, really, when it came down to it. Roland caught my eye and shook his head. He stood and sat next to me, whispering quietly.

"Rose, let her up," I called once Roland told me what had happened. She glanced at me and nodded, still grimacing. Sheathing her daggers, Rose stepped back, walking over to stand with us. The dalish recruits looked at me, expecting a reaction. "Go home," I said to the woman still on the ground.

Everyone stared at me. "What?" I said.

"You're punishing _her_?" one of the recruits finally said. "She wasn't the one in the dirt!"

"I'm not punishing anyone," I said. "I'm not taking her as a Warden, though, that's for damn sure." No one seemed inclined to stop staring at me. "Fine," I said, sighing and pushing my hair back. "You want to know why? First, I have no patience for bigots. Of _any_ kind. Second, I hate idiots almost as much, and only an idiot would think they could get away with insulting two of us without even _arming_ themselves first." I looked at the woman on the ground, who was stiffly getting to her feet. "I mean, really, what did you think would happen? Did you hope she would cry? You do realize we're Grey Wardens, not a traveling theater troupe, right?"

Anders burst out laughing at that, and Roland joined in a moment later. "Oh, I can just see that," he said. "The next time someone calls you a witch I'll have to hold your hand while you cry. And then we can all put on a really, really horrid production of _The Antivan Tragedy_. "

"I don't know, I might be a decent actress," I said. "I'm a good dancer."

"And you have the singing voice of someone strangling a small child," Anders countered.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Anyways, not the point. The point is that we kill monsters. On a very regular basis, no less. It takes a lot more than mean words to bring any of us to tears."

The woman who started the fight made a face at me. I didn't care, I was right after all.

"And third," I added, "anyone that easily and quickly overpowered just isn't good enough for me. I mean, she had you on the ground in about five seconds!"

"Not bad for a… what was it?" Rose put a fingertip to her lips, looking lost in thought. "Flat-eared traitor to her kind?"

"I think that was it exactly," Roland said.

"You have the best memory," Rose said to him before planting herself on his lap and proceeding to make a very public statement by way of her tongue shoved halfway down his throat.

"You know, we do that in public and someone yells at us," Anders mused. "Usually the king."

The woman who had insulted Rose stood up and stormed off. "Anyone else have a problem?" I asked. Rose and Roland broke off their kiss and stared across the fire, challenging the recruits to speak up. "Feel the need for any smart comments?" They all went silent. The two who Roland said had been giggling at the rude jokes about him and Rose looked at their boots. The others looked at the fire. "Well, let's just forget all this unpleasantness ever happened. We have a long trip ahead of us, we should all enjoy a night not having to worry about watch shifts and my horrible campfire cooking."

"Sorry," Rose said after a moment, voice low enough only we could hear.

"For?"

"You did warn me."

"Doesn't make what she said any less wrong or rude." I glanced over at her. "I can't judge, when someone commented to Zevran and I overheard I hit the bitch with lightning. Shoot, if she'd said something to Anders she would probably be dead right now. Or wishing she was." Rose snickered at that, but Anders sighed.

"You know, I _can_ take care of myself," he said.

"But dangerously overreacting to defend you is one of my few joys in life. You would take that from me?" He rolled his eyes and I turned back to Rose. "I wouldn't worry about it. If they want to join us they need to know we're all equal. The others can think on that until we get home."

The recruits did seem far more open-minded once we left for home the next day. Or they made a good show of it at least, talking to everyone and being as friendly as we could hope. One actually made a point of apologizing to me for what happened, insisting the others were more curious about how people outside the Dalish lived than anything. "If we hated everyone but our own people it wouldn't make much sense to leave and join you, would it?" she had asked me.

I had to admit, she made a good point. "Honestly, I'm not the one to apologize to. And you're not the one who owes anybody an apology. You didn't say it."

"I apologized to Rose and Roland first," she said. "But I wanted to apologize to you. It didn't exactly cast us in the best light." She seemed reassured once I promised we wouldn't hold one rude person against everyone.

We were perhaps two days out from the Dalish lands when a larger group of darkspawn attacked us. I couldn't claim to be surprised. They did attack us whenever we traveled in groups, although since there were only five Wardens with us now it shouldn't have been that bad.

"Maggie!" I could hear Fiona shout as I pulled my dagger from the throat of the last ogre.

"Over here," I replied. "Just a second." She looked up, confused.

"I thought you were just behind me."

"That was me," Anders said.

She gave him a strange look. "Even your _spells_ feel the same now?" Fiona shook her head. "Well, one of you come look at this." Anders walked over, I wasn't far behind. Fiona reached down, flipping the dead hurlock to its back. "Oh good," Anders said. "And here I thought we got them all."

"Shit," I muttered. "It say anything good?"

"Nothing I could understand," she said. I sighed, frustrated but not wanting to say anything. Fiona's first language was Orlesian, and she had spent at least twenty five years speaking nothing but the Anderfels language. The darkspawn were hard enough for me to understand and I was a native speaker of the language they used. For her it would have probably sounded like slurred nonsense.

"I caught the end," Roland said. "Nothing helpful, though. Just the usual 'you won't defeat us, we'll avenge the Architect' garbage."

"All right," I said. "I can't sense anything else around here, can you?" Fiona shook her head. "Nothing we can do but burn them and mark our map." I spit in the dirt, trying to get the taste of blood from my mouth, and shook a bit of flesh from my hair. "Let's hope we find an inn tonight. If I'm not mistaken there's one a few miles up on the old Imperial highway." I hopped back into the wagon. "I must be getting soft. I never used to care about wandering around drenched in blood."

"You know, I'm not going to complain about that," Anders said. "It really isn't the kind of _dirty_ I enjoy." I giggled and Fiona rolled her eyes.

As we made our way North we stopped in several of the larger towns to look for more recruits. Although I wished it hadn't been necessary, it turned out I was able to show the Dalish that I would stand up for them just as much as I had for Rose. Several people who seemed otherwise promising balked when they saw their fellow recruits, the facial tattoos unmistakable. One was so enraged at being told to leave in favor of elves he actually made the mistake of attacking me. Fiona did manage to stop me before I killed him, although I couldn't see why. He attacked me first, after all.

Over the next few months Fiona went on several more recruitment missions. Sometimes with me, sometimes with other wardens. I suspect she would have gone alone but that was one of the few things I'd put my foot down on. Ferelden was far more rural than Orlais, and from what I knew bandits were more common. A trip of any length would usually require at least one night in a tent. You couldn't go any distance and count on being able to stop in a town or find an inn. Someone could very easily slit her throat in her sleep if she was alone in some clearing without anyone keeping a watch before she'd even know it.

At the beginning of Drakonis we received word that the queen had given birth to two healthy boys and was recovering as well as anyone could hope. Although Varel objected until he was literally red in the face, I spent a small fortune throwing an enormous party in the middle of the city to celebrate the birth of an heir to the throne. I'd asked Teagan and Fergus Cousland what I should do, both said as local lord I would need to have some kind of parade or celebration or people would think I was cheap. Or even worse, disloyal. Teagan went one further and said that, because most people knew the king and I were as close as any siblings, everyone would expect me to do something rather lavish. So I decided to play it safe and just copy what Fergus was doing in Highever.

A couple thousand sovereigns went towards several days of music, food, and ale for anyone in the banneron who wanted to come. I was lucky we found out first- that meant rooms in the inn. By the time word spread and freeholders began pouring through the city gates there wasn't a room to be found anywhere in the city. People were literally camping on the docks and in the streets. It _was_ a lot of money, but honestly, we had it to spend. We would more than make it up from taxes alone in the next couple years. Actually, observing how crowded the city was, we would probably make up at least half of it with the taxes on every room in the city being rented at once.

"Isn't this fun?" I asked Nathaniel as he, Anders, Sigrun, and I danced a reel with several of the local merchants and their wives.

"It actually is," he admitted. Of course, he was also much drunker than anyone would ever suspect if they didn't know him.

Halfway through the next song Anders squeezed my hand, jerking his head towards the tables. Someone had just replenished the food. We descended on the table as soon as the song ended. I was glad to see most people were just drunk enough not to fawn over us. Or even pay us the slightest bit of attention.

A few people wandered over while we ate. Most seemed curious about when I would have an heir. I made sure to explain to everyone that my title would go to the next Commander of the Grey, not to any of my relations. I even managed to get through a conversation with Ser Bryant and Ser Irminric. I felt like my heart was going to jump from my chest the entire time and had to leave one of my hands in my lap, with Anders holding the other so they wouldn't notice them shaking, but otherwise I think I did an impressive job of not looking like a complete lunatic. "Are you all right?" he whispered to me once they had left to help themselves to more ale.

I nodded. "Better. I don't want to offend them by acting strange. They're good people, they don't deserve that. Even if the armor does make me want to hide now." I sighed. "I have to get over it quick, though. I'm sure there will be plenty of templars in the Denerim cathedral. The last thing we need is me shaking so much I drop a prince on the floor.

"I don't think anyone noticed a thing," Anders said. "And I'm sure you'll do fine. Relax, have another drink."

He grabbed a pitcher from the table and refilled my glass. I giggled as he shoved it towards me enthusiastically. "Why Lord Anders, if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to get me drunk."

"I only want you to catch up," he laughed. "Why? Worried I'll try and take advantage of you?"

That caused me to burst out laughing. "Unless you plan to ask me for a raise while I'm seeing double I don't think it would even be possible."

"Hm, now _there_ is a thought," he said, grinning. "Of course, I usually just spend all my money on fancy equipment and presents for you…"

I took another sip of my drink once I'd stopped laughing. "Oh, maybe I should slow down."

"Why?"

"People are staring. I must have drunk-face or something." An older couple was watching us from several tables away. They both looked away when they saw I had noticed.

"Drunk-face?"

"You know," I said. "When you've had too much and can only make some kind of blank slack-jawed idiotic expression. Drunk-face." Of course, by then I _was_ rather drunk.

"You do not have… _drunk-face_," he laughed. "They're probably looking since you're, well, kind of famous. The whole hero thing."

"Ugh. I'm drinking to forget that!"

"Well, maybe they've never seen mages up close before. Lots of people haven't, you know."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Or Grey Wardens. That's even more rare."

"Like unicorns. Except covered in darkspawn blood. And bipedal. And not imaginary. And it isn't a crime against nature to have sex with a Grey Warden. And people are mostly scared of Grey Wardens. Hm… maybe we're not so much like unicorns."

I stared at him blankly for a moment before sliding halfway out of my chair, laughing hysterically as all worries of looking drunk in public left my mind.

_

* * *

_

_So the Fereldan Wintersend celebration is an extremely pared-down Imbolic, while the Orlesians have Candlemas. I kind of like the idea of the 'barbarians' still holding onto remnants of pre-Chantry celebrations and not knowing why._

_Late update… midterms, etc… new vegas, etc…;)  
Thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing!_


	81. I didn't mean literally!

I had decided forcing myself to get used to being around templars again was the only way I'd be able to cope with our trip to Denerim. So, to that end, I started dragging Anders to services at the Chantry twice a week.

It took more than a month before I could actually manage to sit through the entire thing. I had expected as much, though, so we usually tried to dress as much like normal people as we could. It didn't seem like a good idea to have the entire city know the Warden Commander had to be helped from the Chantry in tears by her husband on a weekly basis.

Late in Cloudreach, only a week or so before we planned to leave so we could be in Denerim by Summerday, one of the new Dalish wardens came to find me in my office. "There's a woman here to see you," she said.

"A woman?"

She shrugged. "She's wearing a strange dress. Seemed to know you, from how she spoke."

"Huh," was all I said before standing up. A strange dress could be many things. Maybe it was Wynne. Circle robes would look strange to Dalish eyes, after all. Although what she was doing here was beyond me… "All right, I'll go see who it is. Thanks, Merya." She nodded and left, grabbing her bow off her back before running off.

I walked into the main hall and sighed. It wasn't Wynne.

"Revered Mother," I said, nodding. "This is a surprise."

"Do you have some time?" she said immediately.

"Um, sure," I said. Since it would take hours to get my office into a state where dozens of Warden secrets weren't on display for all the world, I led her upstairs to my sitting room. "Is something wrong?"

"It seems so," she told me after taking a seat. "The other people in the Chantry might not have recognized you, but did you really expect dressing like a peasant to fool anyone that has known you for four years?" She sighed. "What happened?"

"I've been having, um, problems," I said lamely.

She sighed. "So I noticed. The crying while Anders helped you leave the chantry twice a week for a month was a big hint."

Were priests allowed to be sarcastic? That didn't seem entirely fair. I sighed. "We went to Orlais a few months ago. Warden business. There was an… incident."

"An incident?" she said, eyebrow raised. "It seems like more than that." The priest paused, a look of panic crossing her features. "Does… does this have anything to do with the arsons and murders at the chantries in Orlais a few months ago?"

"I was back in Ferelden when all of those happened," I said noncommittally.

"I see," she said. Neither of us said anything for a moment. "Let's forget I mentioned that," the priest finally told me. "I came because I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I said quickly.

"If you're going to start lying to priests you should really get a bit better at it first," she said. "If you don't want to talk about it I won't push you, though. I was only concerned."

"You know that whole excommunicated declared a heretic and maleficar thing?" I said, standing up and walking to the fireplace. After tossing a few logs in and holding my hand out to light them I sat back down. "Apparently they _do_ take it rather seriously in Orlais."

"Oh no…" she muttered.

"I suppose we should be flattered. They sent more than a score of templars just to bring in just the two of us." I shrugged. "The other Wardens managed to figure out where they were holding us after a couple weeks and got us out before we could be executed."

She stared at me. I suppose it wasn't every day a priest heard someone admit to escaping from a Chantry death sentence. "A couple of _weeks_," she said after a moment. "They had you for _weeks_."

"Two weeks," I confirmed. "I wasn't exactly conscious for most of it, though."

She sat back in her chair, eyes closed. "I'm so sorry," the priest said to me after a moment.

"You didn't do anything," I said. I'm sure I sounded slightly petulant but really, how many times would I have to sit and listen to people tell me they're sorry.

She shook her head. "Orlais has different… values than we do," she said after a moment. "Any stories of the Chevaliers'' behavior would be enough to prove that."

"They're barbaric," I said finally. "Funny we get called that. But really, _they_ are."

"I know I shouldn't judge but… I never understood why the women of Orlais accept such things. The women of Ferelden certainly wouldn't."

I shrugged. "It got me a new senior Warden at least. Orlesian, but she was up in the Anderfels for years. Wanted to come back to the South and Ferelden was a more attractive prospect for just that reason." Tucking my legs up I sighed. "No permanent physical damage or anything. I'll get over what happened. I just forced myself to do it a little faster than I should since I need to be in the Denerim Cathedral in less than two weeks, and dropping one of Alistair's sons would be… bad."

"Yes, I can see how that would cause a scandal," she said, sounding amused. "Well… you know if you ever want to talk I'm always available."

"I know," I assured her. "And thank you." The idea of talking to her had occurred to me. It wouldn't be the first time I'd gone to visit the Revered Mother just for a sympathetic ear and some advice. But with this… it just didn't seem the right thing to do. Especially since I was quite sure she wouldn't approve of the aftermath and honestly, I suspected knowing some sort of revenge was achieved was part of the reason I had been able to cope with everything.

She seemed to be able to tell there was something I was hiding, but after a few hints dropped the subject. I certainly wasn't about to tell her 'oh, no, I'll be fine. My former lover was hired by my immediate superior to arrange a series of brutal assassinations in revenge, and that keeps me happy.' I mean, 'bloody painful revenge' wasn't exactly something the Maker told us to strive towards.

By the time the priest left it was nearing dark. After wandering around the Keep without luck, I climbed three flights of stairs and finally a rickety ladder. "There you are!" I said, looking through the hatch onto the upper battlement.

"Here I am," Anders said, offering a hand to help me up. "Finally warm enough to come out here without shivering."

"It is," I agreed, settling in front of him, leaning against his chest. "I'm glad winter's over." It was actually unseasonably warm, even for so late in Ferelden's short spring.

"I thought you loved winter. You were running all over the courtyard throwing snowballs with Oghren and his daughter the first day it snowed."

"Only the beginning," I said. "It always seems to last a month too long. I guess that's what we get for living in Ferelden."

Anders laughed at me. "You wouldn't live anywhere else."

"Nah," I said. "Well, maybe Tevinter. That wouldn't be bad. I suspect the Anderfels aren't bad for a Warden mage, either, since they pretty much run the nation. Nowhere else though."

He made a noise of agreement and I told him about my visitor. "You think she connected what happened after with us?"

"Probably," I said. "Or suspects, at any rate. She mentioned it and I just said 'oh, we were back in Ferelden well before then.'"

"Hopefully she won't say anything more."

"I couldn't just deny it," I said. "You know how I am, she'd know I was lying."

"I know," he agreed. "I just hope it doesn't cause more problems for anyone."

"We didn't order it," I pointed out. "I have no control over what the First Warden does. Let the Divine take it up with him. I'm sure that's a conversation she'd rather avoid. From what I know he's kind of scary. That's what Fiona said."

"Scary?"

"Well, you know how everyone _thinks_ we are before they meet us? Just cold and singleminded, obsessed with darkspawn and looks like they could bite the head off of one and spit it out without pausing? That's him."

"There's something strange about never actually meeting your immediate superior," Anders mused.

"Maybe for you… you sleep next to yours," I teased.

"That I do!" he agreed. "And I certainly wouldn't expect you to do that. I think I'd be rather put out if you tried." I chuckled, not able to argue with that. We sat watching the distant harbor as the light faded. I chewed on my lip, lost in thought. Runi had sent me a letter from our southernmost garrison saying there were increased darkspawn sightings. I sent more Wardens down to bolster her numbers, as well as a small quantity of archdemon blood and lyrium, in case she had to perform a joining. Redcliffe, too, had reported more sightings. Most seemed concentrated in the south and west. We had nothing, and there had been no problems reported from Denerim, either.

Orzammar had been experiencing more resistance in the Deep Roads as well. But they always experienced at least _some_ resistance, and were on the verge of retaking Aeducan Thaig completely, which would be their first major victory against the darkspawn, well, ever. That could be why. Maybe the darkspawn were getting penned in and lashing out more as they ran out of space?

"Obsessed with darkspawn," Anders said after a moment, pinching my side gently.

"Well… it is my job."

"Any thoughts?"

"Not a one," I said. "Maybe the sightings are just because we're cutting into their territory underground and they have nowhere else to go… maybe it's something more. I don't know."

"Huh," he said. I turned, looking up at him. "You really haven't noticed anything?"

"Noticed?"

"I think they're building up numbers," he said finally. "I can't even walk _past_ the basement without my teeth wanting to turn around in my head. Something's going on."

"Shit," I muttered.

"Maggie, you didn't notice?" He slid over, looking at me with shock. "We've all been talking about it, wondering when you would do something. Why do you think Nathaniel has been on your case about sending out more scouts?"

"I've been trying not to." I groaned, realizing I'd been avoiding even walking on that side of the courtyard for months. I hadn't even been _in_ the basement since we got back from Orlais. When I sent the archdemon blood to Runi I asked Rose to get it for me. "Shit."

He sighed. "You mean to tell me you've been trying to _pretend _nothing was wrong?"

"I guess," I admitted.

"Maker's breath, Maggie. What were you thinking? You can't _ignore_ something like that."

"I know," I said. "I don't know. I just…" I pushed my hair back and wrung my hands. I don't know _why_ I was pretending not to notice. I had no excuse. "When we get back from Denerim… I'll set up a few larger expeditions into the deep roads. Here and Kal'Hirol."

"How have your nightmares been?" he asked after nodding at my plan.

"Same as usual," I said. "No archdemon, if that's what you're asking. Maker forbid." I shuddered.

"Mine have been a bit worse, but yeah, nothing _that_ bad. Just… more of them. More frequent, harder to ignore."

I stared at him. "Tell me. I get them constantly, it's hard for me to tell if they're worse since mine never go away."

Anders sighed. "Nothing _different_ really. Just more, like I said. Like right after I joined, before the Architect died." Pulling my legs up, I wrapped my arms around them. "I'll need to talk to Nathaniel. Maybe write to Alain. If the surface activity is all in the west, he may be seeing more in Orlais. I should go find Nathaniel now…"

"He's in the city," Anders said. "Went to see some traveling Dwarven musicians with Sigrun."

"Ouch," I laughed. "I bet he's loving that."

"I don't know if I should pity him for sitting through it, or Sigrun for having to listen to him complain after." He moved back so I was leaning against his chest once more, replacing the arms that were wrapped around my waist. "You can be wildly irresponsible for another night, I guess. But really, what _were_ you thinking?"

"I wasn't?" I said. "I just… was pretending I didn't notice, I guess."

"But _why_?"

I stared out beyond the Keep, I could see the torches in the distant city, and a bolt of lightning over the water. "I don't know what to do." Anders squeezed his arms tighter and kissed my neck. "I have _no idea_ what I'm supposed to do. I mean, if they were attacking us I could plan a battle, but this? I don't bloody know what to do."

He was quiet for a moment. "I think the deep roads plan is good," Anders finally said. "As much as I just _love _going down there. I really wish I had some advice but… you know this isn't really my area of expertise."

"Well it's not mine, either," I said. "I'm no expert in reconnaissance. I've never felt so useless. At least when I became commander we were constantly under attack so I had _something _to direct us towards. This… I don't get it."

"Do we have any experts in reconnaissance?"

"Not really," I said. "We have scouts, but that isn't quite the same thing. We don't even have the right kind of horses, apparently."

"They need special horses?"

"That's what Nathaniel told me." I went back to biting my lip until Anders pinched me again. "Sorry," I said. "When we go to Denerim don't let me forget to talk to Leliana. A bard could do proper reconnaissance missions. I need her to come train people. If she can't I'm going to ask Alain if he can send someone. I think his wife is a bard."

Anders chuckled at that. I looked up at him and he grinned. "Just imagining what it must be like to be married to a _bard_. Maker's breath, you're bad enough, that would be a nightmare."

"Bad enough?" I said. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said quickly.

I squirmed out of his arms and spun around as thunder sounded off in the distance. "Oh no, you mean _something_," I said. It was starting to rain, very lightly. I blinked as a drop hit my eyelashes.

"I mean nothing!" he said, smirking at me.

"Don't give me that look!"

Anders laughed. "Fine. Don't act so innocent. I know you've used those bard tricks you picked up from her on me, don't even deny it."

"I did not!" I said. "I never have! If anything you're constantly manipulating me. Everyone knows you've got me wrapped around your finger. Nathaniel teases me incessantly."

"Now _that _is absurd," he said. "And he isn't one to talk. He got a _tattoo_ for Sigrun. And she wasn't even sleeping with him at the time!"

"You're such a liar."

His face fell. "Don't say that," Anders said. "I've never lied to you. Never."

I reached out and put my arm around his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that," I swore. "I was joking around." Looking at him I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. "You jerk!"

"What?"

"You're doing it right now!" He laughed as I punched his shoulder.

"Ow!" Anders rubbed where I hit him and made a face at me. "You're in trouble for that."

I bounced to my feet as his hands began to glow, shrieking as a lightning bolt sparked off my hip. "Oh yeah?" I said, returning fire.

Laughing, we chased each other, shooting off lightning bolts and each trying to grab at the other without getting grabbed ourselves. My hair was sticking to my face and neck, robes growing heavier as the rain continued. Spinning to see where Anders was on the roof, I slipped on the wet stone. With a shriek I started to fall forward, suddenly remembering just _how_ far up we were.

"Got you," Anders said, sounding out of breath as he grabbed my hips. I blinked, looking down into the courtyard. The courtyard that was _very_ far away.

"Oh Maker," I muttered.

"Come on," Anders said, pulling me back onto the roof. I shuddered. "It's all right," he said, looking me over. "You wouldn't have fallen anyways, most of you was still up here."

"Wow," I said, shaken. "We're _really_ high up."

"We are," he agreed. Probably noticing that I was still a bit out of sorts he pulled me closer to where he was sitting, near the center of the roof, and wrapped his arms around me. "You're all right," Anders said. "I got you. You know I wouldn't let you fall." I put my arms around him, leaning against his chest, the wet fur on his robes brushing against my cheek. "Although… running around up here? Probably not one of our better ideas."

"No, I don't think so," I agreed. "At least not in the rain." He tightened his embrace and I sucked in a breath, pain shooting through my chest.

"That's not a good sound," Anders said, letting go. "Stretch out, let me see." I did as he requested, laying down at the center of the roof, as far from any edge as I could manage, and watched the glow of magic form around his hands, rain splashing off his skin. Anders hummed under his breath, his face taking on a serious expression. The glow around his hands changed colors and I sighed as blue light surrounded me just above my waist. "Just a couple broken ribs," he muttered as the spell worked on me. "From where you hit the edge." I shuddered. All things considered, falling off a roof would have been a fairly pathetic way to die after everything that had failed to kill me. "There," Anders said, smiling. "Good as new." He leaned over and kissed me. "Better?"

Another strike of lightning briefly lit up the night, I could see his blonde hair stuck to his skin, the edge of his mouth twisted up. "Maybe," I said. "You may need to try that again before I can be sure."

"Oh?" Anders said, smirking as he stretched out next to me. Putting an arm around me, he brushed my damp hair back as our lips met again. His mouth was hot, I could faintly taste lyrium. After a moment he broke off from my mouth, working his way towards my neck.

"We should go inside," I said.

"Why?" he asked before returning his mouth to my skin. I shuddered, sighing happily.

"Well, if we go inside we can go to our bedroom," I pointed out.

"What's the rush?" Anders said, running his hands over me and squeezing one nipple between his fingers through my robes.

I gasped, arching my back towards his hand automatically. "We're outside!" I reminded him.

Laughing, Anders looked over at me. "You act like that's never happened before."

"This isn't the middle of the woods," I said.

"You're right," he agreed. "No worrying about bears up here. Don't worry, no one can see up here from anywhere else, and no one is outside."

"It's raining."

"You know, I think that may be why no one is outside," Anders said, climbing on top of me and propping himself up on his hands. "Besides," he added. "I've started to grow attached to this idea and the thought of climbing down a ladder, several flights of stairs, and walking through the Keep… well, it isn't very appealing at the moment."

Anders relaxed his arms, kissing me again before I could respond. "Oh," I said, giggling as his hips pressed against mine.

"Riiight," he agreed. Running a hand up my leg and under my robes, he made a noise of amusement. I groaned, spreading my legs apart and pushing my hips up against his hand. "I'm not the only one who likes the idea," he said.

"Maybe not," I admitted.

"Maybe?" Anders said, pushing two fingers into me. I groaned feeling my muscles tense around him, closing my eyes as rain splashed onto my face. My hips moved in time with his hand. "Look at you," he chuckled. "This doesn't look like maybe. It _definitely _doesn't _feel_ like maybe."

Whimpering as he took his hand away, I grinned. "All right," I admitted. "But this is a perfect example of me being wrapped around your finger."

"It is?" he said. "Since I took my fingers out. It would have been a much better example a few minutes ago."

I burst out laughing. "I didn't mean… _literally_," I said after a moment.

"I suppose that's good," he said, pushing my robes up, "since I had something else in mind now." I lifted my hips and he chuckled. "Forget something when you were getting dressed this morning?"

"This afternoon," I said. "Remember, after lunch? In my office?" I hoped briefly that Nathaniel wouldn't be the one to discover my forgotten underwear. I'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh yeah," he said, fussing with his own robes. "That was fun."

"It was," I agreed. Feeling him brush against me I sighed, shifting my hips and hooking my legs around him. He remained there. "Anders," I whined, trying to pull his hips towards me with my legs.

"But it's raining," he said, mocking me. "And we're outside."

"So let's go in," I said, squirming out from under him and sitting up.

Sighing, Anders sat up and looked at me, shaking his head. He grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him. "All right, bluff called, you win."

I smiled, straddling his lap. "I win," I said, going up on my knees before sinking back down with a groan.

Still holding my hips, Anders groaned as I started to move. I could see his eyes almost closed, wet hair hanging down around his neck and lips parted as lightning flashed again. Glancing at me he smiled, whispering my name and putting a hand on my cheek.

Turning my head to kiss his hand, I started moving faster, gasping as I managed to find the perfect angle. "Right there?" he asked, holding my hips in place.

I grunted in response, too drunk on the friction and the feeling of him inside me to respond coherently. My head thrown back, I licked rainwater from my lips, actually enjoying the feeling of the cold water hitting my face. My legs started to shake and I slowed down. Anders dug his fingers into my hips and kept me moving quickly. The puddle of water that had formed in the wrinkles of our robes started to splash up. Moaning, I fell forward, thunder in my ears. Every muscle seemed to tense. Even my toes fought to curl up inside my boots as I started to cry out with every thrust.

Anders kept me moving on his lap, grunting. I could feel his quick breath against my wet skin. "Say my name," he said, sounding frantic.

Still making wordless cries, I held tight to him. Drawing in a breath, I shook violently feeling all the tension release at once. Before going limp in Anders' arms I shrieked out his name. He groaned loudly and dug his fingers even deeper into my hips, slamming up into me as he pulled me down to meet him. With a roar he let go of my hips, grabbing me around the waist and kissing me violently. I shook again from the sudden change in position, gasping. "Anders," I whispered, leaning against him. Groaning, he held tighter to me, panting.

When he stopped twitching inside me and regained his breath I saw Anders shift position. Looking at him I grinned. "All right. This was a good idea," I admitted.

"I know," he said. I could see only the faintest trace of his smirk in the moonlight. Water dripped from both of us as rain continued to pour down. "But, well, right now a hot bath sounds like an equally good idea."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said. On shaky legs we made our way to the trap door, carefully descending the ladder and stairway.

"What happened to you?" Rose demanded, bumping into us before we made it to our room. Since Sigrun and Nathaniel had started sharing a room I let her and Roland move into Sigrun's old room.

"Oh, um… we got caught in the rain."

"I'll say," she agreed. "Look, I know Nathaniel once said you two didn't have the sense to come in out of the rain when you were together, but you don't have to prove him right _literally_."

"He said that?" I demanded.

She laughed. "You know how he is. I think he says the same thing about all of us." Shaking her head, Rose looked at us. Our robes were both dripping onto the floor. "What were you doing that was so important?"

"Working on some new spells," Anders said.

She looked from him to me and started to giggle. "Right," Rose said before going into her own room.

"Think she bought that?" Anders asked.

"Nope," I said. I stripped and began filling the bath as soon as I walked past the bedroom door. As I heated the water with a fire spell someone knocked. Anders sighed when someone called his name and went to answer. "What was that?" I asked when he came back a moment later. I heard someone laughing in the hall and the sound of running.

"Roland," he said. "Wanting to know where we were… working on spells."

I burst out laughing and climbed into the water. "I hope they don't roll off the roof," I said. "That place is a deathtrap."

"You didn't seem too concerned," he said with a smirk.

I pulled my legs up so he could join me in the tub. "No, you're just able to talk me into anything," I said. It was true, after all. Anders gestured for me to turn around. I did, my back to him in the water, and he began to untangle my hair with his fingers.

"Always blaming me," he muttered before pouring warm water over my hair and working soap into it. "I think it's your fault."

"I don't see how," I said, scooting forward so I could lean back to rinse my hair. Looking up I grinned at him. "I was the one who wanted to come inside."

"The _first_ time," he said as I sat up, turning so I could get the knots from his hair. "The second time I suggested that."

"That time does not count," I said. "You were just teasing me then."

"Maybe," he admitted, sighing as I washed his hair. "Listening to you whine like that is quite the boost to my ego. As though I need it." We both laughed at that. I let my hands drop from his hair to his shoulders, rubbing them for a moment. "That's just fantastic, by the way."

"Good," I said, planting a kiss between his shoulder blades. "I want to be dry now, though." I hopped out of the bath as he rinsed his hair. Once dry I jumped under the blankets of the bed, shivering. "It's not nearly warm enough to be out in the rain," I said, rolling to my stomach and turning my head to face him. "We're going to both end up with a cold."

"First," Anders said, climbing in next to me, "that's an old wives tale. Second, if we did somehow end up with colds I could just heal us."

"Fine, fine," I said. "We should start getting ready to leave tomorrow," I said. "Go into the city to pick up our clothes if it's nice."

"Will you be all right?" he asked, lazily running a hand along my spine.

"I think so," I said. I wasn't really sure, but what choice was there.

"You know Alistair would let you out of this if you asked."

"I'm not going to do that," I said. "It's… I'm happy he asked me. It means a lot."

He moved closer to me, curling up alongside me and putting an arm around me. "You won't be alone," Anders said. "Fergus will be there next to you, and Alistair only a few feet away with Elissa. And apparently I'll be right in the front row. With Oghren and Felsi and the kid, lucky me."

I chuckled at that. "I'll be the one holding an infant. Oghren's daughter's almost five. Not very likely to wet all over the place at that age."

"Now that's an idea," he said.

I rolled to my side. "Wet all over the place? Please don't."

Anders laughed. "Not _me_. Just… focus on that. If you spend all your time worrying about the baby going off while you've got him you won't be able to worry about… anything else."

"That could work," I said, not believing it would actually work in the least. But it would be nice if _he _wasn't as worried about me.

He sat up to put out the candles and sighed as he settled back into the bed and replaced the arm around me. "I love you, but you would make a horrible actress," Anders said after a moment, holding tighter to me.

* * *

_Just finished my midterms, so I actually had time to write. New Maggie art! _**http:/ s15. photobucket. com /albums /a385 /little_befu /?action =view& current=maggie .png**_ Just take all the spaces out (or just go to the link on my profile.) I love her expression in it. Very "you're kidding, right?" The last thing many a bandit has seen before they died. :D _  
_Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers!_


	82. I have to go burn my dress

I directed everyone as they loaded the wagon. Fiona paced beside me. "How are you going to explain why I'm there?" she asked me.

I shrugged. "You're… um…" the idea finally hit me. "_If _anyone asks... which they won't, we can say you're an ambassador from Weisshaupt."

"I am not!"

"There's one person in this country who actually talks to Weisshaupt _ever_," I reminded her. "And that's me. No one will ever know."

"I don't like this."

Sighing, I managed to shove my trunk into the wagon and turned to her. "Then stay here. I don't know what you want me to tell you. I thought you'd want to get a look at your gr—"

"Hey!"

"The royal babies," I finished lamely. "But if you don't, well, stay behind. I won't be offended."

She sighed and put her trunk in the wagon. "I did get the dress," Fiona said finally. I laughed and sat on the edge of the wagon, waiting for everyone else.

Oghren and Felsi arrived next. He climbed up first and lifted her in a second later. Finally Anders appeared from Jowan's house, and Sigrun and Nathaniel from the Keep a moment later. "We ready?" I called.

"Yes," Nathaniel replied. "All people and dogs accounted for. Let's get going before something else comes up." We started to roll out of the courtyard.

Nathaniel poked me in the back, I turned to face him. "Sit back here," he said. "We can work on the trip." I nodded, spinning on my seat and hopping down. Where I was I could lean against Anders. He laughed and reached behind him, pulling my hair. "Or you two can continue to act like idiot teenagers."

"All right, all right," I said. "Let's work." He nodded and unrolled the maps. I pulled my letters from my bag and we began marking out in greater detail every recent sighting.

"Do we have the deep roads map?" he asked.

"Both," Sigrun spoke up, looking in the map box. "The one of the roads themselves, and the one with the roads mapped out on the surface."

"I still think that was my best idea ever," I mused.

"It was pretty clever," Nathaniel admitted. We began comparing the maps. "We should have Runi's people check for a break somewhere around here," he gestured. "An old barrier door, a cave in, something…"

"Yeah," I agreed. "That isn't far from an old thaig, there could very well be an abandoned door that was used for trade." We continued to discuss sightings and which outpost should handle them, eating lunch in the wagon, until stopping for the night. Nathaniel and I stopped to roll up the maps and lock them back in their box.

"You can't do something like this again," he finally said when everyone had gone to make a fire and set up the tents.

"Huh?"

"Maggie, don't give me that. You had your head in the sand for weeks about the darkspawn buildup. You can't do that again." He sighed. "Look, I know you've had a really hard time lately. And I can't blame you. But if you need to take some time off let me know and I'll step in until you're back to normal. Our work can't suffer."

He stared at me and I felt myself flush. "I know," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't bloody apologize," Nathaniel said. "Done is done. Just don't do it again, or tell me if you don't think you can make that promise."

"It isn't going to happen again," I said. "I promise. I… I think I was panicked since I really don't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do. It's worse than when I first became commander, at least then I had attacks to direct us towards. This is just… strange."

He sighed. "I don't, either." Nathaniel sat back in the wagon, tucking his hair behind his ear and making a face. "This isn't normal. The Architect and Mother were abnormal, but this is stranger. They're not attacking. Not even seeking people out. The sightings… they've avoided confrontation." I nodded. "But 'nothing' isn't exactly an option on the list for either of us. We have a duty here, we're Grey Wardens. It's not all fancy parties and parades."

"You think I don't know that?" I said.

"You just haven't been… yourself lately."

I stared at him. "Can you _really_ blame me?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "That's why I'm talking to you. I'm serious, if you want to… unofficially step down for a bit just say the word. If this is too much stress for you, well, no one in the order would ever question it or judge you for it. And no one outside would ever have to know."

"No," I said. I thought about spending my days sitting around, with nothing but my own thoughts to occupy myself. "No. Please don't ask me to. I need to work, if I didn't have anything to do I think I'd go mad. I just can't sit and do nothing and remember what happened and—"

"Hey," he said quietly, cutting me off with a hand on my shoulder. "No one said you _had_ to. I'm giving you the option if you _want_ it. I just wanted your word that you wouldn't let something like this slide again, and you gave it. That's enough for me; I've never known you to break your word."

Nodding, I relaxed though my hands were still shaking a little. "I used to be good at my job," I sighed.

"The job keeps changing," Nathaniel mused. "We can't be blamed for _that. _Have any wardens, ever, had to deal with something like this?"

"Not that I've read," I said.

"If you haven't read it, it probably hasn't happened," he said. "I suspect your obsession with Warden history could give the First a run for his money."

"Maybe." He was just trying to make me feel better now. I stood up. "You lock the maps?" Nathaniel nodded. "Well, we should eat before it's all gone." He stood, brushing off his leggings and grabbing the map box. "And I am sorry," I added. "For whatever it's worth. I was stupid. I can't pretend nothing's wrong just because I don't know what to do."

"No harm done," he said. "I was trying to set up a plan when it became clear you wouldn't, so we would have been fine regardless, but I am glad you finally said something. And that your plan and mine were basically identical. Always nice when we're on the same page."

We joined the others; Oghren was talking about his daughter and laughing. "Mags, c'mere," he shouted. "You'll get a kick out of this." I sat down between him and Anders and gestured for him to go on. Sigrun passed me a bowl of soup. "I was talking to Twitchy this morning, you know he's watching the nugget for us… well, he tells me to watch out for her."

"Why's that?" I asked, wondering why Oghren found Jowan warning him about his daughter so amusing.

He laughed, almost falling backwards. "Because according to him, she's _just_ like you were at that age!" Felsi rolled her eyes.

"Didn't she climb to the roof of Wade's smithy last week?" Anders asked. "I could have sworn I heard Jowan's daughter babbling about that."

"She did!" Felsi said. "She could have fallen and broken her neck. It isn't funny! She's a little girl, not a Grey Warden like all of you! Don't encourage her!"

"Ah, she's tougher than you think," Oghren told her. "Takes after her old man."

"Wait, how did she climb on the _roof_?" I asked.

"Damned if I know," Oghren said. "No stranger than you almost falling off the roof of the keep last week, though. I guess she is a bit like you."

"I did not!"

"Not how skirtboy tells it!"

I spun to look at Anders. He shrugged. "You're a dead man," I said.

"What? For telling me you fell trying to come in from the rain?" Oghren shook his head. "What, you don't want us to know you can slip on wet ground, too. Believe me, we know you're not perfect. Don't forget, I've seen what happens when you get too drunk." He shook his head. "Now that was quite the show you put on."

"Oh_, that's_ what he said…" I replied without thinking. Anders snickered.

"Wait… what did you _think_ he said?" Oghren demanded.

"Never mind."

Anders started laughing outright, and Oghren shook his head. "Another Highever incident?"

"Pretty much," Anders said.

"Why am I friends with you people?" I muttered to myself as everyone laughed.

Eventually they drifted to their tents, leaving Anders and I to our typical first watch. We had been working our way through a fairly new poem that I bought in Amaranthine. It was the first modern long poem I'd actually that wasn't translated from Tevinter, Antivan or Orlesian. The author was from Denerim, and wrote in our language. Sitting near the fire we both had our heads bent over it, one of us muttering "done" when the page could be turned. Books were expensive, after all, and buying two copies would be silly.

"What do you think?" I said when we finished the final page.

"Not bad," Anders said. "I mean, it's the usual lovers-separated-one betrays the other and ends up with someone else- everyone dies by the ending sort of thing, but it's nice not to have to translate as I read."

"Or wait for someone to publish a translation," I agreed. "Nathaniel told me the author has another book just out, maybe we can find a copy in Denerim."

"What's it about?"

I shrugged. "It sounds strange. It's a collection of shorter poems, but they're all connected by a bigger story where the characters are telling them as this group of people travel to see Andraste's ashes."

"That's different," Anders mused. "Clever."

"I guess it's the talk of Denerim. Some of the stories are very… modern. Very _Ferelden_ apparently." Anders raised an eyebrow. "Lots of talk about women and men being equal, very critical of the Chantry, things like that. You never read that in any poem from Orlais."

"No, you definitely don't," he agreed, laughing. "So how much do you think Alistair is paying him?"

"Huh?"

Anders chuckled. "Come on, someone finally writing in our own language, and stories that highlight how we're different from Orlais, and you _don't_ think the crown put him up to it? Bet you anything he's the new court poet or something." He shook his head at the look of surprise on my face before getting up to put the book back in our tent.

"We don't have a court poet," I said. "Well… we didn't when I lived at court. It's been a while, though."

"Bet we do now," was all he said, looking confident.

It turned out he was completely correct. The day we arrived, after changing into something appropriate in our room and heading down to the great hall, I saw everyone milling around looking up. It turned out they were all listening to a man reciting part of the very book we had been reading by the fire on our trip here. "Toooolllddd you," Anders sang into my ear.

"All right," I said. "I wasn't really arguing with you, though."

"Doesn't matter," he said, smirking. "I was right. Don't ruin my moment."

With the rest of our group we walked to the front of the room and bowed briefly. Alistair stood up and walked over, grabbing me into a bear hug, followed by Oghren, Anders, Nathaniel, and Sigrun. Felsi and Fiona, who he barely knew, got a firm handshake and a greeting by name. "What do you think of him?" Alistair asked after we said our hellos, gesturing to the gallery where the poet had been speaking.

"We just finished that book on the way here!" I said, surprised.

"Elissa's idea. Apparently we need more art with 'Ferelden values.'" He shrugged, obviously indifferent. "You'll like his other book, though."

"It's good?" I asked.

"Well, one of the chapters is the filthiest thing I've ever read in my life. Just your sort of entertainment. I'll give you a copy, we've got a couple sitting around."

I laughed and made a face at him. "All right, Alistair," I said. "Let's see them!" He grinned and led me over to where Elissa was sitting near two ornate cradles. Glancing in I saw an identical baby in each, one in green velvet, the other in blue. Both had Elissa's bright blue eyes and a surprising amount of dark hair.

"I guess the dark hair is from my family," Elissa said. I smiled and said nothing, trying not to glance at Fiona, whose hair was still mostly black.

"They're beautiful," I said. "How do you tell them apart?"

"Oh easy," she said, grinning. "Duncan is always dressed in Warden blue, and Bryce in Highever green."

"Hopefully they won't trade clothes when they're older to mess with you," I laughed.

"You think they would?" she said, sounding nervous.

"I would," Anders and I replied in unison.

Alistair shook his head. "And that is why we are going to tell them to never, ever take advice from either of you as soon as they're old enough to understand us."

We stepped aside so the others could see them. "What's wrong?" Anders asked as we walked off.

"Nothing," I said.

"Liar," he replied. "I saw you make your 'I don't want anyone to know I'm sad' face."

"You always seem so happy around kids," I said. "It's hard not to think that if you were with a normal woman you could have one."

Anders shook his head. "It's just as much me preventing that as you," he pointed out. Smirking then, he put an arm around me. "Besides, if I wanted anyone even _remotely_ normal I certainly wouldn't have married you," he said.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked, smiling slightly.

"Of course," he said. "Since when did you even _want_ kids?"

"I don't," I said. "I'd be too afraid they'd end up…"

"Like us," he said. I nodded.

"Well, me too," Anders said. "To be completely honest, I'm _glad_ we can't. It saves me from worrying. I would never, ever want to damn a child to this, and with both of us being mages… well, it's pretty bloody likely." He sighed. "I'm not ashamed of what I am. But that doesn't mean life has been easy for either of us. To get freedom we had to give up decades of our lives and put ourselves at risk of death on a regular basis. That isn't exactly a fair trade."

"So you're really all right with it?"

"Maker's breath, Maggie. Have you been listening? Do I need to get it embroidered onto a tapestry for you? Since I will. A big one with real gold threads. Maybe showing a unicorn and dragon dancing the remigold through the streets of Denerim, and 'Anders does not want children' in huge gold letters above it. You know, something classy."

I sighed, feeling slightly better. "Sorry. I suppose I'm being silly."

"I'm used to it," Anders said, smirking at me again. "We should listen to the minstrel, I think he's halfway through that song about you."

"Oh good," I said. "We can still catch the last _two hours_ of it."

"Hey, my favorite part is coming up. Where you smile at the werewolves and they instantly turn back into humans."

"Or… we can go get a couple of drinks," I said. "And I won't have to hide under the table."

"Fine," he sighed. "But if I miss the part where the King of Orzammar leads the assembly in song in praise of your chastity I'll be very cross with you."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," I said. "Seriously, why do people write this stuff. Isn't what I _really_ did enough?"

"Clearly not," Anders said. "Next time you'd better make sure there's two archdemons. And maybe a nice series of earthquakes _during_ the civil war. Oh, and not be a mage. _Especially _that part."

"Riiight," I said, "I'll keep that in mind."

I saw Zevran and Leliana sitting not far away, their heads close together. We went to join them.

"They're singing about you," Zevran laughed.

"Which is exactly why you're going to pass me a drink right away," I replied. He chuckled and grabbed an empty glass, pouring me an ale from the large pitcher on the table. A moment later he passed one to Anders as well. I leaned towards him. "Did everything go all right with the…"

He nodded. "Perfectly." I sighed with relief. I'd been worried something would go horribly wrong with the revenge against the Chantry, and it would get traced back to the Wardens, Ferelden, or him personally. "There was some blustering, apparently the ambassador had words with Alistair. But since they completely deny ever having either of you in prison, they really can't think of a valid reason Ferelden or the Grey Wardens would be responsible."

I smiled at that. "Well, I'm glad. I feel better knowing it's done. Thank you."

"Same here," Anders added. "Thank you, Zevran."

"Ah, it was the most satisfying contract I've ever been given. Well, of the ones I completed." I raised my eyebrow at him. He apparently didn't know the First Warden sent us a letter asking if we knew why the Crows had returned most of their payment. "I did keep enough to pay my associates," Zevran said quietly. "Although two of them returned their share: both of the mages."

"You didn't have to do that," I said. "Weisshaupt has more money than they know what to do with."

"That is not the point," he said. "It was personal, not business. I was avenging a wrong done to a friend." He paused briefly. "Two friends," Zevran amended a moment later. Anders looked over, surprised. "That is, if you—"

"No, that's fine," Anders said quickly. "I'm glad to hear it."

That strange understanding was for the best since a moment later Leliana ordered Zevran to change seats with me, leaving Anders sitting right next to him. "Walk with me," she said. I got up and, after telling Anders I would be back, followed her out of the hall. "Zev told me what happened," she said as we took a seat on a bench in the courtyard. I nodded, not surprised. I expected he would, after all. And he knew me well enough to realize I wouldn't be upset by Leliana knowing, and would prefer he tell her, so I wouldn't have to go through it again. "I'm sure others have told you this, but you must know I'm here if you need to talk." She went on before I could say more. "I suspect I know what you have gone through better than most," Leliana said quietly. "You know I was imprisoned after Marjolaine framed me," she reminded me. "The Chevalier… they are not kind to the women of Orlais _outside_ prison. Those in prison for treason…" Leliana trailed off, looking into the distance. I should have realized that was what happened. She always refused to give more than the barest details about the incident, and seeing how much any mention of it upset her, I didn't push. "It does get easier. In time."

"I hate knowing it happened," I said. "I feel…"

"Dirty."

"Yes."

"It's strange," she said quietly. "We've both been covered in so much darkspawn blood you barely knew there was a person under it all. But this is what makes us feel unclean."

"Stupid, isn't it?" I said. "I mean, I don't even know how many men I've been with… it's a lot, though. Well, compared to most people. But this bothers me. You'd think it wouldn't." I sniffed, wiping my eye with my sleeve.

"It isn't the same thing," she said quickly. "You must not think it is the same. This… it's just a way for monsters to remind us we're not as strong as they are." I caught her patting a delicate lacy handkerchief against her eyes.

"No, I know," I said. "And I don't. I mean, with Anders I'm fine. They're two different things. I just don't see why it bothers me any more than a punch in the face. It's not like it's holy ground or anything." I paused, replaying my words. "Wow. That sounded… really idiotic." I started giggling.

"No," Leliana said, also laughing. "I… I know what you mean. Just… only you would be so blunt." We both collapsed into laughter, leaning against each other. Someone walked by and shook his head at us, he must have assumed we were drunk.

"You know, I do feel better," I said after thinking. "Thank you."

"You are one of my dearest friends. I hope you know I will always be there for you, even if we do not live in side by side tents any longer."

"That goes both ways," I said. She smiled and I leaned closer. "So whenever I see you now you've got your head together with Zevran. Whispering, smiling… are the two of you…?"

She covered her mouth and giggled. "Well, I was worried to tell you. I know you have moved on, but with your past…" Leliana bit her lip and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Normally I'm not even interested in men, but something about him is very, um, _compelling_."

"So you are?" I grinned at her.

"We are discussing the possibility. There is more to him than I realized. The more I speak with him the more I see how much of his lothario image is just a mask."

"I could have told you that," I said. "Zev's a good man. He's like us." She gave me a curious look. "He's seen the worst the world can do to a person, he's suffered more than anyone ever should, but he didn't let it make him a monster. He still has a heart."

She nodded. "He does. It is just…"

"Very well protected."

"Yes," she said. "Do you think it would be a mistake?"

I leaned back, thinking. "Can you accept his job?"

"I work for Alistair now, too," she whispered. "We are… not so different. And we are not _hired killers_. We are working for the safety of our nation. More than that, we are working for the safety of a dear friend and his family. That is different."

"But he is still with the Crows," I reminded her.

"He turns away almost as many contracts as he accepts. If the person doesn't deserve it…" I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really, he keeps the association for all of us. So we remain untouchable. You, Alistair, the Wardens in general…"

"You clearly want to," I said. "Do it. Life's short, enjoy it while you're here. Be happy." I grinned at her. "Besides… all his bragging about his skills in bed?" she raised her eyebrows. "Completely justified. Seriously."

She started laughing, a blush covering her cheeks. "I had wondered," she said. "I thought it couldn't be _too_ far from the truth. After all, you went from being a grump in the morning to _singing_ while you made breakfast! Let's be glad Anders did not hear you say that, though."

"Anders has nothing to worry about," I said. "After all, Zevran can't do this." I held up one hand, sparks circling my fingers. She raised her eyebrows and hit me on the shoulder.

"You are _terrible!_"

We went back in the hall and, to my surprise, Anders and Zevran were deep in conversation. "No, I did," Anders said. "I was completely serious. How could I not?"

"I thought as much, but Alistair disagreed, he said it was anger speaking," Zevran replied. Seeing us approach he got up so I could sit next to Anders.

"What are we talking about?" I asked.

"Nothing, really," Anders said. "Should we get going? Need to be up early."

Nodding, I agreed, and the two of us shuffled off, arm in arm and yawning.

The next morning I dressed and we walked over to the cathedral. The entire city was decorated, it was really very nice. I had to be there early, but not as early as Alistair and Elissa. There was one templar milling around outside, but he didn't pay much attention to us after a quick glance in our direction. Anders grabbed my arm and kept me moving to the doors. There were more inside but I was able to block them out, making a beeline towards the front where I saw Fergus.

Anders took his seat and was soon joined by the other Wardens as well as Leliana and Zevran. I saw Wynne milling around and nodded in her direction. When Fiona walked in she froze until Anders got up and walked her over to his group.

"Your new Warden's a nervous one," Fergus observed.

"She's new to Ferelden," I said. "Our ways are apparently pretty different from Orlais and the Anderfels."

"Nothing wrong with that," he said, sounding defensive.

I laughed. "Believe me, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. I'm in total agreement." Leaning towards him I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I have _no idea_ how to hold a baby or anything like that, so if you see me doing something stupid please let me know before I break one of the princes."

"Ah, kids are less fragile than people think." He looked off into the distance for a moment, clearly not seeing anything.

"Are you all right?" I whispered, realizing he must be thinking back to his son who was killed.

He nodded. "I am. It's just hard not to remember." Fergus shook his head. We were acquaintances, but not exactly close. It was an awkward conversation, but since I was the only one who noticed I felt like I had to ask. I was doing my best to avoid looking at the templars. The floor, my friends, the ceiling. Anywhere but the armored men lining the walls. "Are _you_ all right?" Fergus asked me, probably noticing that I was a bit jittery.

"Just nervous," I said. It was the truth, after all.

Anders had reminded me to focus on worrying about the baby instead of the templars. As I stood there half-listening to the Grand Cleric say a prayer and dab oil on the forehead of the blue-swaddled child I was being _very very careful_ not to drop I realized just how good his advice was.

"Oh no," I muttered, trying to keep my voice down. Fergus and the Grand Cleric both looked at me. "He's… leaking." A large wet patch was forming on the front of my dress. I apparently was only allowed to wear every dress I bought once before something horrible or, in this case, utterly _disgusting_ happened to them.

The priest looked at me and then the baby and, although I would never have expected it, actually covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "We're almost done," she said in a voice almost quieter than a whisper. In other words, shut up and suffer through it. Fantastic.

I stood there trying not to look like I wanted to scream as the ceremony went on. Maker's breath, how much could one infant hold? I looked down at him and, appropriately enough, he began laughing at me. That not being enough, the infant capped it off by reaching up and grabbing my hair in a tiny fist. Little Duncan apparently got his strength from his father. I made a squeaking noise, shocked at how surprisingly painful a baby yanking on my hair could be. The Grand Cleric, seeing my predicament, actually did laugh out loud before quickly untangling me with one hand.

The second the ceremony was over I handed Duncan over, telling Alistair "take your son, I have to go burn my dress," before grabbing Anders by the arm and bolting from the Chantry, the king's hysterical laughter still echoing through the Cathedral.

At least this time I thought enough in advance to pack two dresses.

* * *

_'Sup, Mr. Chaucer. I'm trying to slowly evolve Ferelden into the later middle ages, something a bit less barbaric with more of a distinct national identity. _

_And that is what happened at the last baptism I went to. Seriously, the godmother (who was the teenage younger sister of the mother) got peed on and then the baby tried to yank out a chunk of her hair. I seriously thought the priest was going to crack up laughing. And then I thought, well, that's exactly what would happen to the sort of person who can't go out in public without causing a mess. But hey, nothing like being covered in urine to keep your mind from whatever else may be bothering you.  
_

_Thanks so much to all my reviewers! May you never get peed on by a small child in the middle of a large religious ceremony._ :D


	83. I wasn't aware it was a contest

Everyone at the reception seemed to get a good laugh out of the predicament I'd been in. And, apparently, thanks to Fergus Cousland and the Grand Cleric, the few who didn't know from seeing it soon found out. After all the jokes about being "blessed" by the prince I was extremely grateful to leave for home after lunch.

I did see Fiona deep in conversation with Alistair before the reception ended, though. "_Actually, I hated him from the moment I saw him," _I heard her say, which made Alistair break out laughing. _"I was no fan of humans in those days, especially nobles. But he won me over. He had such charm, and was so kind. You remind me of him."_ I wondered who started _that_ conversation, and suspected it wasn't her.

"Denerim is always so exhausting," I said as we rolled out of town after a quick stop at the compound to make sure they didn't need anything. "Fighting darkspawn is easier than dealing with nobles."

"And darkspawn don't wet all over you," Sigrun added with a laugh. I shook my head, making a face at her.

Just before finding a spot to make camp we surprised a group of darkspawn in the road. They were standing there, motionless, and turned to look at us, shocked.

"What the…?" I muttered, seeing their frozen reaction. Shaking my head as if that would make their behavior somehow more logical, I stood up. That seemed to wake them, as the alpha leading the group gave a roar and they charged.

"You saw that, right?" I said, kicking over the hurlocks one by one to check for facepaint.

"I did," Nathaniel agreed.

"What in the black city is going on?"

He laughed grimly. "You think _I _know?"

"No," I admitted. "Just… rambling to myself. I don't like this." He made a grunt of agreement before slinging a genlock body over his shoulders and tossing it on the pile.

"This is new and exciting," Anders called. I walked over to where he stood near a defrosting ogre. The face displayed streaks of white and red.

"Oh _great. _That's just bloody fantastic. Smart _ogres_. Just what we need." With a grunt I grabbed the other arm and the two of us dragged its body off the road. "Heavy son of a bitch," I muttered.

Sending the others ahead to make camp before it got too dark, we remained behind until the bodies were fully destroyed. "They didn't attack right away," Anders mused as we hiked towards the others, the glow of his staff lighting the road for us.

"No, they didn't," I agreed. "I don't know what it all means."

"Going to ask Weisshaupt?"

"For all the good it'll do, sure," I said. "They never reply. And I think they _are_ annoyed about Fiona. She got a letter from the First. His handwriting looked… angry."

"Angry?"

"The pen ripped through the paper on the address," I said. "Never seen that before."

"Hm, yeah, that's some angry handwriting," Anders agreed. He put his arm around my shoulder. "Ah, never before seen darkspawn crisis with no one to fix it but us. Just like the old days, isn't it?"

"Ho there!" someone called. Anders and I turned to see five men climbing up from a ditch on the side of the road.

"Oh, isn't this rich," he muttered.

"Awful late to be walking alone, isn't it?" the lead bandit went on. "Well, there's a toll on this road now. But, if you hand over your coin, I'll be happy to let you go on your way."

"That is _really_ not going to happen," Anders said, clearly trying not to laugh.

They glanced among each other, clearly not expecting us to refuse. "Well, in that case I think we'll just have to _take_ your gold," he said.

"You can sure try," I said, not bothering to hide my laughter.

"Well, you asked for it," he replied, before telling his men to "try and keep the woman alive for some fun." It was really just about the best thing he could have said if he _wanted_ us to slaughter them without a moment's hesitation.

Anders screamed in rage before taking out the one closest to us, lightning leaving him little more than a smoking ruin.

"Maker's breath, he's a bloody mage," one shouted, trying to get away. I raised my hand and cast frost, locking him in place, before shattering him from a distance with a stone.

"Not just him," I laughed. I shouldn't keep being surprised by the idiocy of bandits, given that Anders had been holding a large, _glowing_ mage's staff, but here I was… amazed anyone so stupid could survive to become an adult.

"Exciting," Anders said as the last fell.

"Better us than someone else," I pointed out as we continued on our way. He couldn't disagree with that. "Keep a good watch tonight, everyone," I called as we walked into camp. "Just met some friendly locals on the road."

"Are you all right?" Fiona asked.

"The day Anders and I can't take down less than half a dozen bandits is the day we retire," I said. "We're just fine. _They're_ mostly in small chunks and smoking heaps on the side of the road."

"And never was a fate more well deserved," he said, laughing as he began setting up our tent.

We managed to go the next two days without anything unusual happening, or anything any more unusual than half the camp waking up screaming from nightmares. "Isn't this fun," I muttered over my coffee on in the morning.

"Your definition of _fun_ is broken," Anders said, drinking tea and jabbing absentmindedly at the fire with a stick. "I feel like I could sleep for a week. And I can't, since every time I _try_ every darkspawn within three hundred miles decides to come visit my dreams."

"I think that's the worst part of being a Warden," Nathaniel mused.

Fiona glanced at him, surprised. "Worse than knowing none of you will live to see sixty?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "I might. I was thirty when I joined."

"Same here," Anders said.

"Not me," I replied. "I'll be lucky if I make it to fifty, really. Although who knows, maybe Avernus' potion will buy us a few more years. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"It would," Nathaniel agreed. "And no, the dreams are worse than that. All things considered, I'd probably be dead already if I wasn't conscripted."

I glanced over at him. "I wouldn't have killed you," I said. "You don't know that by now? I felt bad for you. I mean, I can't claim to regret killing Rendon Howe. But killing Nathaniel's father? That's something I'll always feel awful about. I can't blame you for being upset." I was relieved when he nodded, understanding the distinction I was making. "Really, though… I was just so impressed by how many Wardens it took to bring you down that I thought I _had_ to get you on our side. And I needed someone who could scout and pick locks. You just had to horrible misfortune of filling a gaping hole in our roster."

He chuckled slightly at that. "I had no purpose. My family was gone, my home was gone, and I was full of nothing but anger. I would have ended up with a knife in my back in some bar fight, and that's if I was lucky. But, it's the past. I'm merely saying the Wardens gave me a reason to keep going. I don't mind knowing I won't live to be old because I suspect without them I wouldn't be here at all."

"Here, here," Anders said.

"Are you _all_ conscripts," Fiona said, surprised. "No, nevermind… please, forget I said anything."

I shrugged. "I am. The Circle doesn't like when you help a blood mage destroy his phylactery so he can escape with a Chantry initiate. Who would have guessed? Lucky for me Duncan was right there."

"I was going to be hung!" Anders announced proudly. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Hey, you were never actually sentenced to or even threatened with anything; it's rare I can look tougher than my wife. Let me enjoy it."

"Of course," I said drily. "You're a _very _dangerous man. We're all quite impressed."

"Huh," Nathaniel said. We both looked over at him. "I was just expecting one of you to make a double entendre there. Kind of surprised."

"You _really_ want me talking about how… _hung_ he is?" I asked with a grin. "Since I will, if you're that curious."

"No, that's perfectly all right," Nathaniel said quickly. He was already starting to blush. Really, didn't he know us well enough to know we'd jump on something like that?

Sigrun shot me a glance and I gestured with my hands. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Surprised you can walk properly," she muttered. I snickered and Nathaniel sighed, putting a hand to his face with frustration.

"What are we talking about?" Oghren asked as he and Felsi joined us around the fire.

"You don't want to know," Nathaniel said. "Trust me."

"You know, whenever you go and say that it always seems to be exactly the sort of thing I'd _love_ to know," Oghren replied.

"Nathaniel expected me to make a dirty joke about the word hung," I replied.

"Ah," Oghren said. "Talkin' about Sparklefingers', heh, _staff_, then?"

"Basically," Nathaniel said. "I'd _really_ prefer the conversation end, though. In favor of _anything_ else."

I shrugged. "Want me to describe all seven stages of lanthrax poisoning?"

"No," Nathaniel said. "And anyways, I already know them. We should get moving. If we make good time today we can be home by lunch tomorrow."

It was another calm day on the road, even with Fiona stopping us twice when she sensed darkspawn in the distance. Although we chased after them, each time they slipped past us unseen.

"Don't like this," I muttered for the tenth time.

"I'll send them a letter asking the darkspawn to behave more like themselves." Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at me. He was right; there wasn't anything we could do about it.

That night on watch Anders decided to read aloud from one of the books Alistair gave us. Well, not so much reading aloud as whispering poetry into my ear while I leaned back against his chest. "…_those red lips, before whose warm and beaming smile all care is fled. She is to me all light and joy, I faint, I die, before her frown."_ I giggled and he poked me in the side. "Hey, I'm trying to be romantic here."

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's very sweet. Your breath is tickling my ear, but it's still quite nice."

"Ah, this is wasted on you," he sighed. "You realize most women I've known would positively _melt_ if I started whispering poetry in their ear."

Squirming in his arms so I was facing him, I grinned. "Yes, but you only have to smile for _me_ to do that," I said. And with that he did smile, proving that I was being completely honest. Our kiss was interrupted by a pulling feeling in the back of my head. "Anders!" I hissed.

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing his staff from the ground behind us.

"Ogre," I said. "No emissaries… I think. Lot of small bastards, though." I turned and ran to Nathaniel and Sigrun's tent. "Darkspawn," I said, hoping they could hear me. It was silent so I opened the flap and shook Sigrun's leg. She sat up, startled.

"Darkspawn!" was the first thing from her mouth.

"Get ready, we don't have much time," I warned. She started shaking Nathaniel to wake him.

Oghren was yanking on his plate armor when I turned around, Fiona pulling a chainmail shirt over her head. "Felsi?" I asked.

"In the tent," came the response.

I shook my head. "No, get her up and out. No one stays out of sight, least of all a _women_ who isn't even armed. I don't care if she sits in her nightdress by the fire, she's not staying in a tent where we can't see her and make sure nothing happens." Oghren nodded, looking nervous, and went to get his wife.

"It isn't safer to stay hidden?" Felsi muttered, rubbing her eyes and looking worried.

"No," Anders said. "Just trust us on this, it's what we do." He directed her to an area of the campsite opposite the direction they were heading from and stood near her, Nathaniel held his bow and joined them.

"Fiona, what are you getting?" I called.

"Couple ogres," she said quickly. "Maybe an emissary, I can't tell. A good number of grunts, though."

Worse than I thought, apparently.

Worse than Fiona predicted as well, as it turned out. Not a couple ogres, but three of them. Not _an_ emissary. Two. We were both right about one thing, though. Between all of those we were hit with wave after wave of normal genlocks and hurlocks.

"Lyrium?" came an accented call.

"I'm out," Anders replied.

I hopped off the body of the final ogre, I had just managed to bring it down. Reaching into my pocket I took out a bottle and tossed it to Fiona. "My last one," I shouted. She caught it and yelled back a thanks. I couldn't say anything else, I was quickly surrounded by three hurlocks. Freezing the first two, I shattered them with a kick as I cast lightning towards the last. The spell fizzled out. "Damn," I cursed, stabbing out with my daggers and trying to avoid his broadsword.

I heard a scream of rage and turned to look. Two more ogres were charging towards us, not far from Oghren and Sigrun. I started to run towards them when I felt the ground drop away.

But no, the ground didn't fall. I quickly realized I was lifted. A very large grey hand was clamped around my middle like a vice. There weren't two more ogres. There were _three_… and one had been directly behind me.

_Stupid, stupid mistake_, I thought to myself, looking at the monster. _What a way to die_. That was the surprising thing. I wasn't _scared_, really. My first thought was of Anders, not surprisingly. My heart seemed to twist when I realized I wouldn't get to say goodbye. Then I became annoyed I'd die because I was careless and stupid, especially after everything I survived up until now.

I was out of mana, and he had my arms pinned to my sides so I couldn't even get my knife up to cut myself. Struggling, I tried to bring my left hand closer to the blade of my right dagger, which I had managed to keep in a tight grip. It lifted me further from the ground, roaring in my face. Without thinking, I screamed right back. That seemed to at least confuse the enormous darkspawn enough to let me wiggle my arms slightly closer together, until it began to squeeze its hand closed.

I screamed again, this time in pain. I could hear a crunching sound, and some distant part of my mind helpfully informed me that it was the noise of my ribs breaking, and the pain was from shards of bone pushing into my organs. The ogre started to pull me closer to its head, I could feel my hair blowing from its breath. Wincing, I redoubled my efforts to free myself despite how much it now hurt to move.

To my surprise, though, the ogre dropped me on the ground before biting my head off.

I didn't bother waiting to find out why I was spared. Grabbing my dagger, I quickly sliced open my palm. Before I could begin the spell the ogre began to twitch and, after a moment, blood shot from his eyes and ears, drenching me. Dead, it collapsed to the ground.

I closed my eyes in relief, shuddering in pain as I tried to take a breath. Coughing, I could taste blood. But I was alive. _Thank you thank you thank you,_ was all I could think. _Thank you, Maker, thank you blessed Andraste thank you thank you thank you._

I managed to roll to my side. The battle was slowly dying down. Oghren was hacking away at the last ogre as Nathaniel shot it full of arrows. Sigrun and Felsi had just brought down the final grunts, and Anders was casting lightning at an emissary. Watching them, my mind began working again. I pushed the pain away and began running through the battle. I kept coming back to one thing, over and over.

I knew the spell that had killed the ogre. And as far as I knew, I was the only mage in our group capable of casting it.

Fiona didn't seem to realize I was even injured, so focused on her task, but Anders kept glancing my way between spells. As soon as the darkspawn mage dropped he ran to my side.

"Lay flat," he ordered. I did and he began running his hands over me. The blue glow of his healing magic provided barely enough light for me to see in the dark night. He ran his hands across my body, quickly evaluating the injuries before setting to healing them. All the while I could see droplets, shining and dark, falling through the haze of magic and onto me.

"Anders?" I said quietly, looking at his hands.

"Most of your ribs are broken. Lung is punctured," he said. "Don't talk, you'll just start choking on blood."

"You're bleeding," I whispered before coughing uncontrollably, groaning in pain as my chest clenched.

He put a hand over my mouth. I saw a wide gash in his palm. "_Don't talk_," he repeated. "You will _choke_ on your own blood and then you will _die_. _Let. Me. Work."_

Nodding, I blinked back tears and kept quiet.

"Please don't cry," he said, casting spells. "We can talk about this later."

After my ribs and whatever else the ogre broke was fixed, Anders examined my hands. Checking the uninjured first, and then the one I had cut, he healed it without a word.

"Get yourself," I whispered. Even in the dark I could see his face color, but he cast a quick spell, holding his hands lower than I could see from where I lay.

"I'm going to see if anyone else is hurt," he said. Leaning over, Anders kissed me, pressing his forehead to mine for a moment. "I love you," he whispered. Before I could say anything he was up and walking away, checking on the others.

Rolling to my side I started crying.

"Maggie?" Sigrun was kneeling next to me. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I said, forcing myself to sit up and wiping my eyes. "Sorry."

"What's wrong?" worry crossed her face. Before I could reply Nathaniel was at her side, whispering something in her ear. She looked shocked briefly before giving me a hug. So he knew, then. Both walked off quickly as Anders approached.

"Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling next to me. "Does anything still hurt?" I shook my head. "Are you mad?"

"No," I whispered. "Not mad."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hand on my shoulder. "I didn't want to tell you… like this."

"Then when?" I said. "Nathaniel knew. Who else? Jowan? Aidan? Moira? Someone had to teach you. It wasn't me. When were you going to tell me?"

He sighed. "You were really hurt," Anders said after a moment. "You _do_ need rest, and I'm not just saying that to… avoid talking. Do you want to talk about this in the morning, or when we get home?"

"No," I said. "I think I've been in the dark long enough."

"All right," Anders said. He stood and walked over to Nathaniel, whispering something in his ear. I could vaguely see the outline of the rogue's profile as he nodded, hand on Anders' shoulder. Returning to my side after retrieving something from our tent, he reached down to help me to my feet, glowing staff already clasped in his other hand. I reached up automatically, slipping my hand into his.

Anders led me to the edge of camp, and into the woods. We walked a short distance, just far enough we could still see the fire. He set a blanket down and gestured for me to sit. After joining me he wrapped another blanket around my shoulders. "You've lost some blood, if you start getting chills or dizzy let me know." I nodded.

"How long?" I asked him.

He sighed. "Not long after we got back from Orlais," Anders said. "Right after Zevran came to the Keep."

"Months," I replied. He nodded. "Were you _ever_ planning to tell me?"

"Of course," Anders said quickly. "I just hadn't found the right moment." He was sitting with his legs folded, elbows on his knees. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on his hand. "You're upset."

"Yeah," I said. It was fairly obvious, after all. "Who else knows?"

"Nathaniel," he said. "Jowan, Oghren," I nodded. Neither were surprising. Jowan was the one to teach him, no doubt, and Oghren was his closest friend. "Alistair and Zevran knew what I planned, and Zevran asked if I went through with it when I saw him."

I snorted. "All the boys. Couldn't let poor fragile Maggie find out, is that it?"

"Maker's breath," he muttered. "No, that isn't it. They… just happened to be in the room when I decided. When I asked Jowan to help me." He sighed. "Can I ask why you're upset?" Anders said, turning to look at me. "It isn't as though I'm doing something you haven't done a hundred times before."

"I'm not… it' not with _you_," I said, one hand tangled in my hair. "I mean, I am a little since you've kept this from me for a _long_ time, and I thought… I thought we'd never be _those_ kind of people. Secrets. It's not us."

"I know," he whispered. "And I'm sorry." Glancing over at him I nodded. Anders looked miserable. "If you're not upset with _me_," he said after a moment, "then why are you upset?"

"It's my fault," I whispered. "I… corrupted you."

"No," Anders said quickly. "No, you did not. It was _my_ choice. It was the right choice. The spells we use shouldn't matter, it's how we use them. How many times have you said that? It's no more corrupt than anything else."

"That isn't what I mean," I said.

"Then what do you mean?"

I wiped my face, not able to meet his gaze. "I always hoped you would keep me good, but I just managed to drag you down with me. It isn't that you— it's that you betrayed your own principles. And it's all my fault."

He snorted. "My _principles_," Anders said, sounding disgusted. "For all the good they did me. My bloody principles kept me from being able to do anything when you needed me most. I was completely helpless. I'll never feel like that again. Never. Screw my _principles_." He went on, sounding angry. "And I'd love to know where you got this idea that I'm so damned good from. You act like I'm some kind of saint."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

Anders laughed darkly. "I'm _not_ a good person," he said after a moment. "Well, _maybe_ I am now. But if I am that's as much your influence as anything. I certainly wasn't when we met." He turned, looking out into the woods, not facing me. "I killed those templars at the Keep. I've stolen. Threatened people so they wouldn't turn me in. I've spent most of my adult life trying to charm my way into as many beds as I could. And once I managed that, if I was out of the tower, I'd see how long I could get her to support me. I've lied to women, manipulated them… Maker's breath, Maggie, I did it to _you_." I looked over at him, shocked. He sighed. "You were the one I wanted and didn't get in the tower," he said quietly. "One of the prettiest girls I'd ever seen, with the wildest reputation I'd ever heard, and I never got to have you? And then you were the famous Hero of Ferelden, too? I had to try. So… I smiled. I was charming. I told you what I thought you wanted to hear. And it worked. And no one was more surprised than me when I fell in love with you, since believe me, that wasn't in the plan. But I did. And here we are. So if you could just take me off the damned pedestal that would be great."

I stared at him in horror. Replaying the early days of our relationship, from the moment we met at the keep, I shuddered. I was an idiot. He had always seemed so… perfect. My ideal man. Well, no wonder, if he was just saying whatever he thought I'd want to hear.

"Please don't hate me," Anders whispered. "I'm not proud of it. I wish I could go back and change it. But I can't. I _do_ love you now. I love you so much that it scares me sometimes. I could even tell you the moment I realized you weren't just another conquest, when I suspected I loved you, when I knew I did… But in the beginning? I was an ass. I'm not perfect. I'm so far from it… but you never seem to see any of that. So don't think you've… _corrupted_ me. If anything, you've made me a better person than I ever was before I knew you."

I nodded, wiping my eyes. "But blood magic? You _loathe_ blood magic. Always have. How many times have we argued?"

"It's… very easy to hate something when someone is always there to help you, doing what you won't," he said. "I hated it… but how many times did you save my life with it? I never hated _that_." He sighed. "You've always been there to save me. And I wasn't there to save you. Every time I see you tense up when we get near a templar or cry in your sleep it's all I can think of. I failed you. And why? For some principle I haven't cared about in years?" He sighed, lying back on the blanket. "I don't know… sometimes I wonder if I just held onto it so tightly because it was the one way I could feel close to your equal. Your reputation isn't an easy thing to deal with. I forgot that when I wanted Maggie I got the national hero along with her. How could I measure up to that? Maybe some part of me hoped holding onto that would bring me up just a little bit, and you down, and maybe we could meet somewhere in the middle." He turned to his side, looking up at me. "That sounds positively ridiculous, I know. But it was never something I thought about. I'm just wondering if that's what I was doing, without realizing it."

We were silent for a moment, only the sound of crickets and, in the distance Nathaniel and Sigrun at the fire, broke through the night. I turned over his words in my head.

"Do you hate me?" Anders asked after a moment.

"No," I said, lying next to him and pulling the blanket tighter around me. "I could never hate you." I sighed, looking up at the treetops. "But, if I have to let you down from your pedestal, you have to let me off mine."

Anders made a noise of amusement. "So you're _not_ the Hero of Ferelden, conqueror of the blight and commander of the Grey Wardens?"

"Hero of Ferelden," I muttered. "Let me tell you about the Hero of Ferelden. The Hero of Ferelden killed a group of starving peasants in Lothering who were attacking out of desperation for the bounty so they could feed their children. The Hero of Ferelden has killed more bandits than she can count, even when they could have been talked down. The Hero of Ferelden slaughtered almost every guard in Fort Drakon to escape, men and women with the misfortune of being scheduled to work on the wrong day who had no political motivation whatsoever. The Hero of Ferelden destroyed the secret to creating golems, maybe the only way Orzammar would ever really reclaim their empire, because it didn't fit _her_ morals. She fought an elderly Dalish mage until he was so beaten and hurt he agreed to reverse a curse, something that ended in his own death. And not because she cared about the werewolves but because one bit her and she didn't want to join them. And then she lied to his clan about how he died. The Hero of Ferelden threatened the Chancellor that she would kill him _and_ his wife if he so much as _thought about _using her best friend's position to his own ends. The Hero of Ferelden has manipulated entire crowds into rioting to support her own personal agenda. So don't tell me she's a good person. The Hero of Ferelden is a petty, murderous, conniving bitch with more blood on her hands than anyone in this nation."

"That's utter bullshit," Anders said. "And you know it."

"Every word is true," I replied. "So you've conned women into bed. Somehow that doesn't seem quite as bad as the pile of corpses left in my wake."

"That's not the woman I know and love," he said after a moment. "The woman I know is funny, and sweet, and the most loyal friend anyone could want. She fights to keep people safe, and uses her fame to make people's lives better. She's saved more lives than can be counted, including mine." He sighed and put his arms around me. I didn't resist, instead leaning into his chest. "So what happens now?" Anders asked after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… are you furious? Is there, I mean, are we…."

"We're both insane," I said. "It's good we have each other. I'd hate to think of normal people being forced to deal with us."

"You're not mad?"

I pulled myself up on one elbow. "To discover the beginning of our relationship was nothing more than a huge lie all because you wanted to screw me? Now _why_ would I be mad about that?" He winced.

"I _am_ sorry," Anders said.

"I know," I replied. "And it was a long time ago. I'm hurt, but… what's done is done, and it's all in the past. I'd like to hope we've moved past that."

"So would I," he said. "And… the other thing?"

"I hate it," I said. "It breaks my heart. Since I know you never, ever would have done it if it wasn't for me."

"You didn't talk me into this," he said.

I sighed. He still didn't understand. "That isn't what I mean. I still feel like I made you betray yourself." Sitting up, I let the blanket fall from my shoulders. "You have this idea that it's your… duty to guard me. I'm an adult. I don't need a protector."

"I know you don't," he said. "And if I ever forget I can go look at the statue of you outside Fort Drakon. But I'm just as able to take care of myself as you, and that never stopped you from trying to watch over _me_ all the time." Anders sat up, putting the blanket back over my shoulders. "I just want to be able to do the same thing for you that you've always done for me. It's got nothing to do with me being a man and you being a woman. I just… it would be nice if we could both look out for each other." He looked over at me, one corner of his mouth twitching upward. "And should I remind you, I _did _save your life back there."

"You did," I admitted. "Thank you."

"Andraste's knickers, you don't need to _thank _me," he snorted. "I'm happy I was able to do it. You think I can deal with all this without _you_ around? And besides, I'll have to do that a dozen more times before we're even brought up to equal."

"I wasn't aware it was a contest," I said, smirking back at him.

"Of course it is," Anders replied. "We keep track of who kills the most darkspawn. Why wouldn't we keep track of who saves whose ass the most? I think you're in the lead for now."

"Does that mean we need to jump into danger more so you can catch up?"

"No," Anders said, shaking his head. "No, I think we can wait and see how this plays out over the next few decades." He put a hand to my cheek. "So we're all right?"

Closing my eyes, I thought for a moment before nodding. "We're all right," I said. "Well, as much as we ever were."

"Let's get back to camp, then," he said, climbing to his feet and glancing in the direction of our campfire.

Taking his hand, I stood up slowly. Without another word, we hiked out of the woods towards the light.

* * *

_Anders is reading from "Would I The Lofty Spirit Melt" by Wolfram von Eschenbach, a late twelfth/early thirteenth century German poet of whom I am rather fond. Hopefully the site will stay functional long enough for people to actually be able to read this chapter! ;)  
I will admit, I was sitting and trying to decide what it would take for 'my' Anders to become a blood mage, and thinking about how Maggie would react. And the idea wouldn't leave me... so I decided I just had to follow through.  
Let me know how it works, if it reads as realistic or totally out of left field._

_Thanks as always to my reviewers! :)  
_


	84. The 'nobody is happy' sort of compromise

"Anders?" We had arrived home yesterday. Since nothing too crucial was going on I had decided to take a couple days and rest since, truth be told, I did get hurt pretty badly. I wasn't in pain, Anders had healed everything, but I was feeling rather tired. Probably had something to do with coughing out half of my blood all over the ground. _Again_. I really had to stop getting injured so frequently.

"Yes, my love?" He stopped his pacing around the sitting room to look at where I was sitting cross-legged near the fire, curled up in a blanket with a book in hand.

I sighed. In some bizarre attempt to prove he hadn't faked our entire relationship, including getting married, Anders had decided to forget I had a name, switching between terms of endearment on an hourly basis. And had been reciting poetry. _Nonstop_. And then when he ran out of the ones he had memorized he attempted to write poetry. Even worse, he attempted to write a poem about my _chest_. "I'm going to kill you," I said.

"What? But why?"

"Because you are acting like… well, I don't even know if there's a _word_ for how you're acting, but it's not like yourself," I said. "Just… be normal. This is creepy."

"I'm trying to be _romantic_," he said.

"We kill monsters for a living. Our first night on the town together involved killing three Templars. The first time you said you loved me was after we… _defiled_ a priest's bed. Something tells me romance is_ different_ for us."

"Do you want new daggers?" he said, sounding hopeful. "Maybe a sword? I'll get you some! There's a man in Amaranthine who does enameled handles, I can have them done in blue! I know that's your favorite color. How many would make you happy?"

"Andraste's ass," I muttered. "I _don't_ want new daggers. I want the man I married back, this new guy is creepy!"

He sighed. "I just don't want you to be… mad at me. Or think I don't love you."

"I'm not mad at you," I said. "And I know you love me."

"Really?"

"Really," I insisted. "And if you don't stop acting like some sort of romantic lead from a bad Antivan street play I'm making you sleep in the sitting room." He sat down, making a face at me. "I think this might be good for us," I said after making one right back at him.

"How's that?"

"Well, what's the one thing that makes us fight?"

"Darkspawn?"

"I mean each other!" I snapped before looking over to catch Anders snickering. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Hey, you wanted me back to normal, well, here I am." He laughed and put an arm around my waist, before dropping his hand to grab my backside, as if to punctuate that statement. "You know, you may be right," Anders said more seriously. "I wonder what I should do with all of the 'sorry about the maleficar crack' presents I have left, though."

"Well… I'm a little annoyed," I said, grinning at him.

"Right," Anders nodded, rolling his eyes. He paused for a moment. "Are you really?"

"Sort of," I said. "I mean, you kept it from me for a long time. You asked _Jowan_ to teach you instead of me, and tons of people knew besides me. I mean, even if I _wasn't _your wife, I'm still your commanding officer, so I should have been the _first_ to know."

"I know," he said. "And you're right. I just… I knew you'd be upset and try to change my mind. I didn't want you to know until it was too late for that." I nodded, it had been fairly obvious to me that he had planned it that way very intentionally. "But… the other thing?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't _know_?" Anders said. "Are you upset or aren't you?"

"I feel like I _should_ be," I admitted.

"But?"

"It doesn't really matter," I said.

"Doesn't bloody matter?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Anders, if I hadn't been so caught up with trying to do a good job as commander and not screwing up by, you know, sleeping with my subordinates, I would have been all over you the day we met." I paused. "Well, the day we met _again_. Since after the first time we met I waited in the library for you without underwear on for over an hour!"

He stared forward blankly.

"Anders?" I said after a moment.

"Sorry," he replied. "Just… visualizing." I snickered at that.

I'd laid in my bedroll the night he told me staring at the tent ceiling for hours while thinking about what he had told me. I felt like I _should_ be upset. Or rather, people would expect me to be upset, and most people would be upset if it was something that happened to them. It was one of those things Leliana would yell at me over before throwing her hands in the air and muttering about insane mages under her breath in Orlesian. My Orlesian was horrible, but I knew enough to understand that much. I heard it from her too frequently not to remember the words.

I really couldn't work up any anger over it, though. Could I claim to love him when we first fell into bed together? Hardly. I _liked _him. I thought he was good looking, and enjoyed his company. But love? Not even close. I didn't_ expect _to love him, either. _Ever_. From what I could tell, the only difference between the two of us was that he made an effort to get me into bed, while I made an effort to ignore how much I wanted to do the same to him.

"I'm no different from you," I said finally. "I admit that I hoped something… less temporary might happen between us, just because I did enjoy your company, but you know damn well I wasn't in love with you." I shifted so I faced him. "All this," I said, gesturing from him to me, "furthest thing from my mind. I was more worried about you rejecting me in some horribly embarrassing way afterwards."

Anders snorted. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

"What?" I said. "You admitted you just wanted to get me in bed as a challenge. I think it makes my fear perfectly reasonable."

"Do you _listen_?" he laughed. "I wanted to get you in bed because you're beautiful. That it was a challenge only made it all the more interesting. I like a challenge."

"Really?" I said. "Beautiful?"

"Oh, knock it off," Anders sighed. "You know I think so. Obviously I do. Must you constantly fish for compliments whenever I say something nice?" I smirked at that. He told me often enough but, well, it never hurt to hear it again. He leaned towards me. "And reject you? I practically moved in the next day."

He had a point there. "Fell for me that quickly, did you?" I teased.

"Riiight," Anders laughed. "Sure. You could say that, if it'll make you happy. Or, you know, you could say the first time was pretty damn good and I wanted to make sure it happened again. Frequently. And that seemed as good a way as any to manage it, while also making sure no one else tried to get your attention."

I giggled at that. "It really was good, wasn't it? I was still feeling spoiled by having a _bed_ back then."

"Sometimes I still feel like that," Anders admitted. "Like one of these days a templar will walk in and I'll have to jump out a window and go back to sleeping in the woods." I _knew _he was telling the truth about that, but as hard as I tried I just could not picture Anders living in the woods. It must have been a particularly horrific nightmare for someone as tidy and fastidious as him. He smirked at me, clearly less worried about my being permanently scarred. "But no, it took a little longer for your… charms to really work on me. I felt a bit guilty sometimes back then, to be honest."

"Guilty?" I laughed. "Why would you feel guilty? I don't think I'm quite as easily led as you think. And, well, even if I am," I admitted, since really, who was I fooling, "I certainly wanted to. For a very long time. It isn't as though you deflowered some pure Chantry sister here."

"No, no, that's not it," he said. "Never really saw the appeal to deflowering," he said, leaning back against the edge of a chair. "I definitely prefer someone who knows what all the parts are and what to do with them." I raised an eyebrow at him. While that was all well and good, and probably explained part of what he liked about me, I had been hoping he would elaborate on why sharing a bed with me caused _guilt_, of all things. Anders sighed; it was obvious he didn't want to tell me. I stared at him until he gave in. "I felt bad because of the, you know…" he shrugged, looking embarrassed.

"Nooooo," I said, not having the faintest idea what he was talking about. But since he was dancing around the answer it must have been something interesting.

"Well, because you're a maleficar," he finally said, blushing. _Oh, that,_ I thought. I should have guessed. It did seem somewhat ironic in light of more recent developments. "I'd never met one before, at least not that I know of. I was already out of the tower before the rebellion and didn't get caught until after the blight had ended… just before we met." I nodded, already knowing that. "I always figured I'd know when I did… that they'd be…"

"Obviously evil?" I suggested.

"Or subtly evil, at the very least," he agreed with a grin. "I certainly didn't plan to fall into bed with the first blood mage I met. So, yeah, I kept thinking 'oh, you _say_ blood magic is evil, but that sure flies out the window when the maleficar has green eyes and curves.' So, I spent a long time trying to reconcile hating blood magic but not hating the only example of a blood mage I'd ever met."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Anders, I think you were still working on _that_ up until pretty recently."

"Yeah," he admitted. "I mean, I eventually was able to admit the magic itself wasn't evil. But it does have an awful lot of evil applications."

"Have I _ever_ denied that?" I said. "I just don't use those applications. Well, other than—"

"Saving our lives doesn't count," Anders said, cutting me off. I didn't quite agree with him about it 'not counting,' so I only shrugged and he made a face at me. After all, most of the 'horrifying' examples of blood magic in action were much the same- maleficar turning it on a templar to save their own skin. How was I any different? Because I was an _important_ maleficar? That hardly seemed fair. "_Anyways_," he went on, "I figured that eventually. And then I really could only say I hated it because it was the excuse the Chantry gives for everything they do to mages." I nodded. "But…"

"But?"

"But _their_ hate for us shouldn't be a reason I cripple myself." He sighed. "They thought I was already anyways, I'm sure of it. They hate me anyways. Why should I keep myself from being able to protect you as much as you do me, or being as good a Grey Warden as I can? We're supposed to use any means necessary, and I wasn't." He sighed. "It's all excuses, anyways. The Chantry complains about blood magic, but if it disappeared tomorrow they wouldn't free mages. They'd start complaining about something else. Primal, probably, or maybe entropy."

"You realize you've just managed to list off every sort of magic I'm good at?"

"What a surprise," Anders smirked. "It's like you were born to annoy the Divine."

"Maybe I was," I laughed. "And blood magic… well, you _know _I don't require it," I said. "I don't think _any_ of the Commanders do. So I wouldn't say anyone is failing in their duty by not learning it. I mean, some people think just _knowing _those spells is enough to damn you. There's only one situation where I think a Grey Warden should be willing to give up their soul, and that isn't it. Hopefully no one we know will ever face that, either."

He stared at me blankly before paling. "Right," Anders said after a moment. "_That_."

"Yes, that," I said. "And one person every few hundred years isn't _too_ bad. I mean, other than for the one person. But it saves the world, so…" I made a face, trying to block that memory from returning to me. It wasn't working. "Unless you want to trust a hot-tempered mage who was raised by a near-immortal abomination bringing up the spirit of an old god in human form I don't see what the other options are."

"I know," he said. "And you know, when you phrase it like that it sounds even worse. And I already thought it was a bad idea!"

"Yeah," I nodded. I stared into the fire, lost in thought. Anders had moved closer to me.

"What's wrong?" he said after a moment. "I can see you chewing on your lip. Something is worrying you."

"The dreams are getting worse," I said after a moment.

"Mine too," Anders said quietly. "I was speaking with Aidan, Nathaniel, and Sigrun earlier; they all said the same. It's all of us, apparently." I sagged with relief. "What?" Anders said. "That makes you feel _better?"_

"Yes," I admitted. "I had been worrying it might have been… time."

"You haven't even been a Warden for ten years," Anders said. "Are you _mad_?"

"No," I said. "But I'm also the only living Warden who was present when the archdemon died. And I was _close_. The energy released tossed me against a wall. If I'd been on the other side it would have pushed me right over the edge of the roof. We don't know what that does. It's been so long since the last Blight, and all of the Wardens who were present when the archdemon died then were old. The ones who survived got the Calling within a few years anyways, so no one could even guess what it does to a new Warden in the long term. And we don't even know what the Architect did to me."

He pulled me over to him, so I was leaning back on his chest. "Well, the last we do know," Anders said. "All he did was take your blood. It was in his notes, the ones we took."

"Thank the Maker," I said. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I told you _then_. You just didn't trust me to be correct! His notes only confirmed what I said!" Anders brushed my hair back from my forehead. "I didn't realize you weren't sure still. I would have said something much sooner. I thought you knew, and didn't want to be reminded of what he used it for."

I stared forward for a moment. "You know, I honestly never thought about it." I could hear Anders apologize for saying anything, but I wasn't listening, I was thinking. Jumping to my feet, I began to pace. "All right," I said. "So… I'm the _only_ Warden they took blood from?"

"Yes," Anders said. "He didn't even realize the rest of us _were_ Wardens, we were all too new."

"So all of the later… advanced darkspawn… the ones we _didn't_ kill when we escaped. They were made with _my_ blood?"

"Yes," Anders said quietly. "I'm sorry, I thought you had realized that. He had been using Utha's, the dwarven woman, but the corruption was too advanced by then. She was more ghoul than Warden."

"All right," I said. "I'm… hmmm…" I sat down and jumped up again, thoughts rushing. "What if that's why they keep finding _me_. Other than the attack in the deep roads, when you got hurt, it's always been a group I'm in that's attacked. It's always me they target. What if since it was _my_ blood that made them, they have some… extra connection to _me."_

"Well that's a horrifying thought," Anders blurted out. "But… maybe not totally unfounded. And the deep roads attack… you do _live_ here. They may have known and hoped you would come."

"And I did."

"Oh fun," he said. "So do we panic now?"

"Ah, why not," I said. "Go get the senior Wardens into the office, I'll put some clothes on." I figured meeting everyone in a nightdress and blanket wouldn't be a good idea.

"So what are our options?" Rose said after I'd explained everything.

"No idea," I admitted. "Hence the meeting. I had one thought about how to fix it, and, well… I suspect no one will like it. It's fairly final."

Anders glared at me. "Absolutely not, and I'm mad you would even _suggest_ it."

"I'm not suggesting anything!" I said. "I'm only saying that was the only thing I could think of."

"What am I missing?" Sigrun asked.

Anders groaned. "She's implying this could be solved if she killed herself," he said. "Which _isn't going to happen."_

"I know!" I said. "I'm just saying I can't think of anything else."

"That's off the table," Nathaniel said. "It isn't as though we've been inundated by armies on a regular basis. A few isolated attacks a year is hardly cause for anything that drastic."

I nodded. "Agreed. But, like I said, I can't think of anything else."

"Why do you assume there _is_ an answer?" Tobias asked.

"He's got a point," Nathaniel said. "This could just be something we have to deal with until we manage to kill the last of them."

"Oh _good_," I sighed. "Well… as for everything else, I wrote to all the commanders and the First Warden. Hopefully we'll get some news from one of them soon."

Nothing decided, beyond going into the Deep Roads for further investigation, our meeting broke up. "Maggie?" Nathaniel called. I stuck around, waiting for the others to leave.

"What do you need?"

He closed the door. "Are you _ever_ planning to tell me what Fiona is doing in Ferelden?"

I stared at him blankly. "Running the Peak," I said. "Why? Did something happen?"

"No," he said, "but I know the First Warden is mad she's here, I saw the angry letter. I know someone with that much experience isn't generally transferred _away _from Weisshaupt, and from all I can tell this is something the two of you decided on your own. Since when can we write our own orders?"

"I didn't order her to do anything. I said if she wanted to transfer back to the South, which she did, I would have a job for her in Ferelden."

"But… why?" He sat down. "There is something you're not telling me. I can _tell_." Nathaniel looked anxious. "Is… something wrong? Is Weisshaupt monitoring us? You?"

"No!" I said. "Well, not that _I _know of. And if she's here to monitor us why would the First be mad?"

"Point," Nathaniel conceded.

I _really_ wanted to tell him. I'm sure he knew that, too. I was never very good at secrets… but this wasn't even my secret. And this was a _big_ secret. Of the "could spark a civil war" variety. Granted, I didn't think that was a likely outcome, but it was certainly a potential worst-case-scenario. "Look, her reasons to come to Ferelden were her own. They're personal, not Warden-related."

"So you do know why?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "She told me. It was… part of why I told her I would make sure there was a place for her here." Nathaniel stared down at me. He was half-sitting on the edge of his desk, I was in my chair. "Quit giving me that look," I said.

"I don't like having information kept from me. You know that. If this is so _explosive_ you can't even tell _me_, your second in command, what could it do to the order if it's leaked out otherwise? What do you think, I'll hang notices in the city? You know I won't tell anyone else."

"Oh, the usual," I said. "Disaster and ruin. Maybe riots, too."

"Maggie…"

I sighed. "I know. Look…" I bit my lip. I _really_ wanted to tell him. "Make sure no one is outside." He gave me a dubious glance but did as I asked. "Lock the door." When he stepped away I cast a ward that would put anyone who tried the knob into a force field. They wouldn't be able to hear inside it, and it wouldn't hurt them. "She had a son, years ago. He lives in Ferelden."

"Why is that so secret?"

"Her son doesn't know she's his mother. He was told his mother died. She…" I sighed before going on. "She didn't want him to know his mother was an elf, or a mage. It wasn't put to me like that, but… I get the impression she was ashamed."

"Her son, I assume he's an adult now?" Nathaniel was walking around, a look of concentration on his face, gesturing as he spoke.

"Almost thirty," I said.

"She hasn't told him since arriving?" I shook my head. "But… why?"

"It would cause… complications," I said.

"You know who it is?" I nodded.

Nathaniel sank to his desk chair. "Maker's breath, it's Al—"

"Quiet!" I snapped. "How did you know?"

"We know all the same people, Maggie," he said. "He's the only one whose mother died before he knew her. Well, other than Zevran, but something tells me _he's_ fully aware of his elven heritage." I rolled my eyes at that. Nathaniel looked pleased at his reasoning. "And he has no idea…" Nathaniel sighed. "Who knows?"

"Us, Anders, and obviously Fiona."

"_Anders_ knows?" Nathaniel shook his head. "Well, there goes the secret." I made a face at him. "Oh, come on," Nathaniel said. "You know him better than anyone. Don't deny he's a hopeless gossip. Worse than you!"

"Oh, thanks!"

He shrugged, smiling slightly. For Nathaniel that might as well have been hysterics. "You deny it? You just blabbed Fiona's big secret to me!"

"Oh, you _jerk!" _I said, jumping up and punching his shoulder. "You made me feel so guilty for not telling you… I should hit you with lightning!"

"Oh, calm down," he said. "I'm just messing with your head, you must know that. Your suggestion to fix the darkspawn problem was a bit… worrying. I was trying to get you to laugh. It isn't easy for me."

"I'm not going to," I said. "I shouldn't have mentioned it; it was just the only thing I could think of."

"You shouldn't have," he agreed. "Anders worries about you enough as it is."

"I know," I sighed. "I talk before thinking."

"You do," he agreed. "I've given up on trying to fix it. I think you're hopeless at this point. I blame the Circle."

"Me too," I laughed.

"So, if she's his mother," he said, dropping his voice and smiling, "is his father really…"

"Yep," I said. "That Deep Roads expedition? She was on it."

He stared at me for a moment. "Our _king_ was conceived in the Deep Roads? That's… horrifying." Shaking his head, Nathaniel added "Maker's breath, that _anyone_, let alone a Grey Warden, would be stupid enough to have sex in the deep roads… it boggles the mi…" he looked at me and sighed. "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."

"Just once!"

"Maker's breath," Nathaniel sighed.

"Can we just blame the Circle for that, too?"

"I think I'll do just that. Otherwise I'd have to seriously consider relieving both of you from duty on the grounds of being _too stupid to live_." I winced. "Never do that again," Nathaniel said. "Seriously, I do _not_ want to tell anyone the Hero of Ferelden got killed by a pack of deepstalkers because she was too busy… _fraternizing_ to notice."

"Fraternizing!"

"Well, it is. Technically."

"You make it sound like I'm sneaking off to the recruits' barracks. I'm a married woman!" I giggled. "Wow… that still seems so… _strange_."

Nathaniel shrugged. "It seemed the most polite term. And I'm sure you know _I'm_ in no position to judge."

I nodded. "So… what about you two?"

"What about us what?"

"Well…?"

Nathaniel sighed. "Maggie, I have no idea what you're hinting at."

"You. Sigrun. Married. When?"

Nathaniel sighed. "Probably never." I raised an eyebrow. "We can't in Orzammar since I'm human, and although we _could _in the Chantry she doesn't want to. Since she's not a believer she thinks it's dishonest."

"Dalish?"

"Pardon?"

"Have the Dalish do it. I bet Keeper Lanaya would. It's compromise!"

"The 'nobody is happy' variety of compromise?"

"Hey, that's a sort of compromise," I said. "Do you really care that much if it's the Chantry?" I asked. I'd never known Nathaniel to be particularly devout. I don't think he'd attended services since my wedding, after all.

"No," Nathaniel admitted. "I barely even believe in, well… anything." I couldn't say that surprised me. It made me feel bad, though it was his own business. "Frankly, I don't know how you can after all that's happened. I don't know how you did before, with the sort of thing they say about mages."

I shrugged. "I'd like to think there's something better after all this," I said. "And…" I blushed. "Never mind. It's stupid."

"Come on," he prodded.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I sometimes wonder. I have _too much_ good luck. I mean, a ton of horrible things have happened to me, but I've survived all of them."

"You are an eternal optimist," Nathaniel said, chuckling. "Were it me, I'd be focused on everything bad that happened and assume the Maker hated me. You focus on how none of them killed you and wonder if you're blessed."

"I'd go insane otherwise," I said. "And, the ashes. I mean, that's the biggest thing, really. I wasn't much of a believer before that."

"Oghren said they were sitting on top of a mountain of pure lyrium," he said. "You're sure that wasn't it?"

"I'm a mage, I know the effects of lyrium," I said. "And there was magic there… but, I don't know it. It was unlike anything I've ever seen, even now." Shifting in my chair, I tucked my hair behind an ear. "I just _knew_. I don't know how else to describe it. I wasn't expecting it to be real, I thought the entire trip was a joke. But… once I was standing there looking at the urn I just _knew_." Even Zevran, who had been making jokes the entire time, grabbed my hand as we walked into the room, gasping _'Mother of mercy… it is real!' _He recovered quickly, but for a moment he looked utterly terrified. I probably did, too, though.

I'd always _said_ I believed, but I didn't. Not in any real way, at least. I wasn't concerned about learning blood magic since I didn't honestly think there _was_ a Maker to punish me for it, no matter what I told Jowan. Finding such concrete proof that I was wrong left me feeling scared for weeks. Although we never discussed it, I had suspicions Zevran was in a similar situation. He had told Alistair he was religious, but something about the way he said it made me think it was even more of a cultural norm in Antiva than it was in Ferelden. And in Ferelden it was almost unthinkable to say you didn't believe in the Maker.

I eventually found a way to reconcile being a maleficar with my newfound faith, but it wasn't easy. Sometimes I wondered if I was merely grasping at straws. Ultimately, though, I had to accept that the only reason we lived to face the archdemon was because I had been willing to resort to blood magic, and that trumped everything. I couldn't believe letting the world end was preferable to using forbidden magic. By that time I'd been close to death so many times, it really seemed like if the Maker honestly cared one of those would have stuck.

Nathaniel was looking at me strangely. "You know, there were times I envied how confident you seemed to be in your beliefs," he said.

"You shouldn't," I told him. "It comes with a constant fear of damnation." If it could make _me_ brood I'd hate to see what it would do to Nathaniel.

"I'm starting to realize that," he agreed.

After I made sure my ward had dissipated we walked out of the office together towards the courtyard. It was still light out, quite a few people were taking advantage of it to get in some outdoor practice.

"Who's that?" I asked Nathaniel, pointing. Anders was speaking to an old man near the gates. Maybe he used to work here.

"No idea," Nathaniel said. Walking over, we were in time to see Anders him punch the man in the face, sending him sprawling in the dirt.

"I'm going to venture a guess that Anders knows him," Nathaniel said drily.

* * *

_Hope my US readers had a good Thanksgiving!_  
_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers!_


	85. Am I that predictable?

The old man Anders hit was flat on his back in the dirt of the courtyard. Anders stood over him, clenching and unclenching his fists, lightning running up and down both arms. "See that?" I said to Nathaniel. He nodded. "That's… _really_ bad." He wasn't even making the slightest effort to control his magic.

"Well, I can't imagine it would be _good_," Nathaniel said.

"This is probably going to make me really angry," I sighed, glancing at Nathaniel.

"I'd like to think Anders wouldn't start beating on the elderly without a good explanation but… "

"What kind of good explanation could there possibly be for beating on the elderly?"

"Basically," Nathaniel agreed. Oghren had made it to Anders first and, to my surprise, shook his hand. "Oh good, _Oghren_ agrees with him. Well, this is bound to be interesting. You know I don't like second-guessing you, but why don't you _try_ and get him to calm down on the booze?"

"You _live _to second guess me," I replied. "And because of me he killed his own wife. Cut her head clean off. Who could tell someone they _drink_ too much after _that?_"

Nathaniel looked slightly guilty. "All right," he admitted, "I can't blame you." He paused, returning his attention to the scene near the gate, which was drawing a crowd. "Where did Anders even learn how to throw a punch?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "He's taken unarmed combat training with Oghren, same as everyone else. Didn't you?"

"Of course I did, but I didn't think that order applied to the mages," Nathaniel said.

"Why not?" I asked. "We should all be able to fight if our weapons break or, in the case of a mage, we're out of mana. That could save someone's life."

He nodded. "While I won't argue… the idea of _punching_ a darkspawn to death is particularly unappealing." Nathaniel shook his head. "But speaking of punching, we should probably figure out what they're up to."

Groaning, I walked over to them. To think, I used to enjoy having an interesting life. "Anders!" I snapped. "Is there a _reason_ you just knocked out an old man?"

"Yes," he said, still looking enraged.

"It was a good reason," Oghren added, swaying slightly. Oh _good_, he was already at _that_ stage of drunk.

"Are either of you going to _tell me_?"

"I'd rather not," Anders said.

The old man had started to groan. He wasn't conscious, but he was close. I was getting pushed by Wardens trying to see what was going on. "Hey!" I shouted. "Shouldn't all of you be off being vigilant or something? If you want a show you can go into town and catch a play." Grumbling, most of them returned to practicing.

"Anders, that wasn't exactly a question," I said when the group had been reduced to us, Nathaniel and Oghren. Oh, and the man in the dirt. Couldn't forget him. "Heal him and tell me what's going on. _Now_."

Anders turned and gave me a strange look. "Is that my commanding officer speaking?"

"What?" I stared at him, horrified. "You punched an _old man_. He's lying in the _dirt_. You're telling me I'll need to make _acting like a decent person_ a bloody order? What is going on? This isn't normal behavior!"

"Even for you," Nathaniel added.

"Fine," he said through clenched teeth. "But… let's bring him inside. I suspect you'll be doing far worse in a little bit."

"Fine," I said. "Whatever. I don't care. Just… don't leave him lying there."

"I'll get him," Oghren said. He then proceeded to pick up, and drop, the man several times. "Heh. Oops," he said.

Glancing over at Nathaniel I saw his horrified expression. "Is… is this happening? Have I gone mad?"

"Is it possible for both of us to go mad at once?" he replied.

"Maybe," I said. "There's this wheat fungus, it's really hard to detect but it basically makes everyone see things and act crazy. Jowan and I snuck a tamer variant he cooked up in the botany lab into the tower's kitchen once. It was a real riot. If we got some bread made with infected grain I can imagine it would be very easy for both of us to—"

"Speaking rhetorically here, Maggie," he said. "And for the record that's perhaps one of your most horrifying childhood pranks." Stepping forward Nathaniel glared at Oghren. "_I'll_ carry him."

"Fine," Anders said. "Let's go. No reason to delay the inevitable." With that he stormed towards the Keep, sparks hitting the ground in his wake.

"Oh, this isn't going to make me happy _at all_," I muttered, following him.

Nathaniel followed behind Anders through the main room and up the stairs. We ended up in my sitting room. "Drop him," Anders said with a shrug, closing the door. Nathaniel set the man on the small couch. "Huh. I would have picked the floor," Anders mused.

"Anders!" I stared at him, horrified. Even if he did claim I had a tendency to overlook his flaws, and maybe I did, I was quite sure he'd never been cruel or violent.

"Sorry," he shrugged, not sounding anything even close to approximating sorry.

"Just cast the damn spell," I muttered, leaning against the wall by the fireplace. Nathaniel and Oghren stood by the door, I could see Oghren whispering. "Oh, back to this? Everyone knows but me?"

"Sorry," Oghren said quickly. He walked over and stood between me and our guest. I noticed he had his axe in hand, the massive head balanced on the floor near the toe of his boot.

"Is this necessary?" I said, looking at him. "He's got to be close to seventy!"

"I got your back," was all he said.

"Thanks," I muttered. "You know my crippling terror of the grey haired and arthritic."

"There," Anders said, finishing the spell.

Rubbing his head, the man sat up and glared at Anders. "You're a lunatic!" he exclaimed.

"Probably," Anders said with undisguised hostility.

The man gaped up at him, horrified, before turning to look around the room. He stared at me for a moment. "I'd like to speak to the Warden Commander alone," he said.

"Not a chance," Oghren piped up.

I sighed. Looking at the man I asked "are you a templar?"

"No," he answered, sounding confused.

"Are you an archdemon?"

"What? N-no!"

"I'll be fine, Oghren," I said. With a grumble he left, Nathaniel close behind. Anders stayed exactly where he was.

"Anything you can say to her you can say to me," Anders said when the man looked over at him.

"You _punched_ me," the man countered. "Sorry if I don't want a repeat of that."

"You're lucky that's all I did," Anders said, leaning closer to him, flames engulfing his hands.

"Anders!"

With a sigh he walked over to a chair and flopped back into it. "Go ahead," he said.

The man turned away from Anders, shifting to face me. He stared for a moment, mouth partway open, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "It's just… it's actually you."

I sighed. Another one of _these_, it seemed. Probably someone whose son got into trouble and hoped I'd conscript him to save him from the gallows. Wouldn't be the first time. Why Anders punched him was still a mystery, though. He certainly wasn't here to join up himself, not at his age. "Go ahead," I said, trying to sound not-intimidating.

"Right," he said, one calloused hand tangled in his hair nervously. "Um…" He exhaled, directing his gaze at the floor and biting his lower lip briefly. Exhaling, he let his words out in a rush. "Your mother is dying. She'd like to see you before that happens."

"My what?"

"Your mother," he repeated, wincing slightly.

"That's absurd!" I crossed my arms, feeling disgusted. "What kind of sick joke is this?"

"It's not a joke," he said, turning to face me directly.

Ignoring him I looked at Anders. He shook his head, a defeated expression on his face. "Look at him, Mags," he said, sighing.

Turning back to the man I studied his face. He was younger than I'd first guessed, probably closer to sixty than seventy, but with a heavily lined face and very tanned skin; it was the skin of someone who spent most of their time outside. Heavy grey eyebrows sat above green eyes, which in turn were above a sharply pointed nose. Without thinking, my fingers went up to my own nose. I didn't need a mirror to tell me my eyes were the same color as his.

"No," I gasped, "no!"

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pushing his hair back and looking at the floor.

"No!" I said again, jumping up. Moments later I was bolting down the hall.

"I _knew_ this would happen!" I heard Anders shout. Someone called my name, I ignored them and pounded down the stairs. Racing through the courtyard I paused long enough to decide where to go. A moment later I slammed my fist into a door.

"Maggie!" Jowan said, opening the door. "What's wrong?" Before I could answer he pulled me inside and guided me to a chair. "All right," he said, handing me a clean rag when I stopped sobbing hysterically against his shoulder, "take a breath. Tell me what happened? Does this have something to do with the man Anders hit?"

I nodded as his wife slipped into the room, setting a teapot down on the table along with several glasses. Before I could thank her she was gone, heading their daughter off before she could come over and try to climb onto my lap like she always seemed to do. "So," I began once I could get a coherent word out. "You'll _never_ guess who he was."

"I didn't even see him," Jowan said. "I was at the other end of the yard sparring with Aidan, once Tobias ran over to tell us you'd already gone inside."

I looked up at him and burst into laughter.

"That good?" Jowan said.

"No," I muttered after taking an uneven breath. "Apparently… apparently he's my bloody _father_."

"Maker's breath," Jowan gasped, looking horrified. "What? _Why_?" He shook his head, setting his cup down. "He's got some nerve showing his face around here after all these years. What, he wants money?"

I shrugged. "Maybe, I didn't stick around long enough to find out. He said my mother sent him."

"But _why_?" he said. "It seems awfully random. I mean, even if they haven't seen you since you were little they must have suspected you were _you_ after the blight. There aren't _that_ many mages in Ferelden. One the same age as their daughter, with the same hair and eye color and the same name? They'd be idiots not to at least wonder."

"He said she's dying," I said, setting my empty cup down. Jowan refilled it before I could. "She wants to see me… before that."

"Huh," Jowan said.

"Yeah."

Someone knocked at the door, Jowan called for them to come in. "Figured I'd find you here," Anders said, walking over and putting his arms around me.

"Is he gone?" I asked.

"No," Anders said. "I've got Oghren keeping an eye on him. Nathaniel's keeping an eye on Oghren." I managed a chuckle at that. "Want me to send him off?"

"Yes," I said quickly. He stood up straighter and turned to leave. "Wait," I called. "No. I don't know."

"You don't owe them anything," Jowan said. "If you don't want to talk to him, don't talk to him."

"I know," I said. "It's just, I don't know, I'm…"

"Curious," both men said at about the same time.

"Am I that predictable?"

"Absolutely," Anders said. Jowan nodded in agreement.

I put my face in my hands. "I don't know." I laid my head on the table and sighed. Anders ran his hand across my back. "What I _want_," I said finally, "is for him to have never shown up here in the first place."

"Want me to hit you in the head? Maybe we can cause enough damage you'll forget today." I looked over at Anders, he smirked slightly.

"Nah," I said. "With my luck I'll just forget how to cast a shield spell or something really important." I stared into my cup. "Thing is, _she_ never did anything bad. Well, not that I remember. I remember after he locked me up she snuck me cookies."

"Well, do you want to hear him out?" Anders asked me. I shrugged and he reached over, gently removing my hand from my hair. "You'll make yourself bald the way you keep tugging on your hair," he said.

"Oh, bad idea," Jowan added. "Remember the last time? That big bump on the back of your skull? Not pretty."

I rolled my eyes at him, but laughed anyways. "You made fun of me for weeks."

"Until you burnt my hair off," he said. "I suppose I deserved it."

"You did!" I sighed, looking at my oldest friend. "What would you do?"

"I'd probably be too curious not to listen," Jowan said. That didn't surprise me. He was curious to an extreme fault, and it caused him no end of problems. I wasn't much better.

Anders laughed. "Well, I punched him in the face, so there's my answer."

"Why _did_ you do that," I said. "Punching instead of magic?"

Setting his cup down, he sighed. "Because I knew a punch wouldn't kill him. I couldn't guarantee I would be able to control my magic enough to promise the same."

Nodding, I stood up. "I'd rather get this over with," I said. "Will… will you come with me?"

"Of course," Jowan said, jumping to his feet.

"I didn't think letting you go alone was even an option," Anders added while Jowan disappeared to tell his wife where he was going. "It'll be fine," he said, squeezing my hand. "He says anything to bother you and I'll get rid of him faster than you can spit." I raised an eyebrow. "People pushed out windows fall really fast," he added with a smirk.

I stood up and smoothed my robes when Jowan returned. "Let's go," I muttered, leading them through the courtyard. Halfway there I started laughing.

"What?" Jowan said.

"The three of us storming in there, all in robes. I'm sure it'll be quite the sight."

"He'll think you brought the mage vengeance guild with you," Jowan laughed.

"Good!" Anders exclaimed, opening the door for me. "Let him worry." I rolled my eyes and smoothed out my hair as best as I could. "You're fine," Anders said. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," I told him. "And I can't promise that I won't just run off again."

"No you won't," Jowan said. "You're the _Commander of the Grey_. A Warden, like you always dreamed. You faced an _archdemon_. Templars fear _you_. He's a bloody farmer that smacks around children. You're going to let someone like _that _scare you?"

"Listen to Jowan," Anders said.

"Fine," I sighed. It was easy for them to say. I didn't want to do this, but I knew I'd regret it if I didn't. Really, what I wanted was for him to never arrive and disrupt my life. Didn't I have enough problems already? But, he was here, and the damage was done.

"You never know," Jowan said. "He may feel bad."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure he does _now_."

"Definitely," Anders said. "I mean, I'm sure the fact that you hold more power than any mage since the height of the Imperium has _nothing_ to do with this random visit or any guilt over mistreating you. He would feel just as bad if you'd never left the tower and remained completely unknown." He snorted. "Bet he asks for money."

"I said the same thing," Jowan said.

I could hear quiet voices once we were outside the door. They fell silent when I turned the knob. "Maggie?" Oghren said when I came in.

"I'm all right," I said, sitting next to him. Anders sat on my other side, Jowan walked across the room to join Nathaniel and Sigrun, who had evidently arrived while I was gone. She was glaring at the back of the man's head and twirling a dagger in her hands. I looked at our guest. "So," I said, "talk."

He glanced around nervously. It was probably for the best that he could only actually see two other people besides me from the angle he was sitting at. "You're shorter than I expected," he said finally. _That_ was what he had to say for himself?

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I said, rolling my eyes.

"No, I mean… I saw the statue. In Denerim."

"Where I'm _ten feet tall_?" Maker's breath, was I descended from a line of _idiots_? He expected me to be the same height as the statue?

"I'm not a bloody idiot," he said, sounding faintly amused. "I just mean you didn't look much shorter than Teyrn Loghain in the statue, and he was a tall man. Met him in the war." He paused. "The rebellion, not the more recent war." The more recent war being the one Loghain lost, because _I _won, of course. Although in the end he won, too, since I just dragged him to the Warden side. "We weren't _friends_ or anything, but I was in a few of the same battles as him." He shoved his coarse grey hair back. "Not that any of you want to hear an old man's war stories." He folded and unfolded his hands. "Anyway. It wasn't long after the blight that we figured you were, um, you. The name, well, we've got a real common name. So that could have been coincidence. But then we saw one of those pictures with you and all your friends they were spreading everywhere." He glanced up at me. "You're the spitting image of your mother back when she was young. Well, all but the nose. Afraid that's my fault. That was too much of a coincidence, so we figured it was you." I nodded, it seemed a reasonable deduction. "Well, your mother, she wanted to rush off to Denerim first thing. Back when you was there, right? I told her it was a fool idea. Said 'she don't know us from Andraste, what right do we have butting into her life?' I mean, I know when you left… it wasn't good."

Oghren snorted next to me. "Yeah, can't say I've ever considered a boot to the ribs good parenting. Considering my daughter just set our kitchen on fire while I was supposed to be watching her I don't get many chances to feel like a better father than someone else. Right now, though? _Definitely _feeling like a better father.." I glanced over at him. Oghren laughed, sounding almost proud. "That flame-enchanted axe you got me for First Day? She took it to the dinnertable! Said she wanted to see what would happen. What happened was the flames set the wood on fire." He shook his head, still chuckling.

"Wow," I muttered. "I'm impressed she could lift it. Volcanic aurum is heavy!"

Our guest looked at us in horror. "Maker's breath, you're all mad," he muttered. I rolled my eyes at him. Really, did he think he was in any position to judge us? "Look," he said after a moment, "I don't know what to bloody say. I could say I'm sorry, since I really am. I could say I regret it, since I have thousands of times since then, but that won't change what's done. I was angry, I took it out on her, and it was stupid. If I could do things different I would, but I can't." He sighed. "It was bad enough when our boy was… that way, but then we get the same thing with her? I snapped."

"Wait, what," I said, cutting him off. "Your boy? I have a brother?"

He nodded. "They came for him just before you were born. He'd be… thirty six now. Tried to find him, but the people at that tower are bloody useless. Don't think the lot of them could find their own way out of a burlap sack."

"Sounds like the Circle," Anders said with begrudging agreement. "What was his name? I'm about the same age, might have known him."

"Loghain," he said, followed a moment later by a defensive sounding "what?" as he was probably misreading the expression on my face. "He was a great man! There wouldn't have even _been_ a Ferelden for you to save if it wasn't for him. We'd all just be Orlesian serfs." For a moment I expected him to attack me for what he thought was a slight on Loghain, of all things.

"No argument from me," I said, holding my hands up. I could hear Nathaniel snort.

"There's a lot of men that age named Loghain," Anders pointed out. "What did he look like?"

"Dark hair with blue eyes. Freckles."

Anders tensed next to me. I suspected the answer wouldn't be good. "I knew him," Anders said. I looked over at him and he frowned, whispering "Harrowing" in my ear.

Well, so much for having a brother.

"Not good, I take it?" I shook my head. "Should have guessed, when I gave his name at the Circle they all got real funny and started pretending they didn't know who I meant. Up until then they seemed to know quite well." He sighed, shaking his head. "Well like I was saying," he went on, voice sounding slightly strained, "your mother wanted to find you right away. I didn't think we had any right to bother you, though. She dropped it when she figured it would just be, well, painful." He bit his lip, pushing his hair back. "When she first got sick we went to the Chantry, to one of those new healers. She said there wasn't anything to be done."

"So that's when you came here?" I said.

"No," he replied. "Well, not long after is when we came to Amaranthine. We were staying in the city, right around when the princes were born. She just wanted to get a look at you, and I figured you'd be at any celebrations for that, being the local lord and all." He went on, looking at the floor again. "She was happy about that. Seeing you, I mean." I waited for him to go on, since this still didn't explain how he ended up on my doorstep. "She took a bad turn a couple days ago," he went on. "I sent her on home with our girl and came here. She didn't know what I was doing; I told her I've got business in Denerim. Figured if you said no it'd be better that way, didn't want to get her hopes up or anything."

"Did you just say you have another daughter?" Anders said, surprised.

"Not exactly. We figured losing two children to the Circle of Magi was enough and never had any more after that. My brother, he died in that big battle during the blight, the one in Denerim. He was with the Redcliffe army. Since his wife was already dead from some kind of ugliness with a demon in the village we took their kids in. It was the oldest who came with us. She's nearly twenty."

"So I have… um…" I struggled to remember the right term.

"Cousins," Anders provided.

"Right, that's the word! I can never keep that straight."

"So, that's it," he said after a moment. "If you don't want to I understand. I hate even coming here and disrupting your life and… upsetting you. I know I don't have any right." He pushed his hair back and sighed. "I just knew it would mean the world to Alice and wanted to try and do something nice for her before she…" he trailed off, covering his face. "Sorry," he said after a moment, wiping one eye with his hand. I reached into a pocket and pulled out a clean rag, passing it to him. "Thanks," he mumbled, looking embarrassed.

I bit my lip and stared down for a moment. "My mother's name is Alice?" I asked him after a moment.

"It is," he said.

"Um," I began, "what… what is your name?"

Anders and Jowan both sighed loudly before he could answer. A moment later Jowan filed out with Sigrun and Nathaniel. As they left Oghren stopped to point at the man and add "we're still watching you."

"Am I that predictable?" I asked Anders.

"Look who you're asking," was his response. He had a point.

Looking confused, the man glanced over at us. "Can… can Wardens read each other's thoughts?" he asked, sounding curious and horrified.

"No," Anders said, sounding annoyed. "We can read her face, though."

"Oh," was all he said. "My name's Hob. Well, Robert, but no one's called me that since my father died. I should have said that sooner. I didn't realize you would have forgotten," he said, but quickly began to correct himself. "Not that I can blame you. It's been a long time, and I didn't give you much cause to want to remember."

I waved my hand. "It's fine," I said. "I remember West Hill. Is that correct?"

He looked pleased. "It is! At least, it was then. No, we have a farm in the Southern Bannorn now. Near Lake Calenhad." Wouldn't that figure; it was all the way on the other side of the country. And I couldn't stand Bann Ceorlic, but that really shouldn't influence my decision. "After you were gone Alice wanted to move. Said she wanted to be closer to family in Redcliffe since it was clear the Maker wouldn't let us have one, but I think she just wanted to stare at that tower all day long."

_Ouch_. Even Anders winced a little hearing that. I sighed, shoving my hair back. "All right," I said after a moment. "I'll go."

* * *

_Shorter chapter than usual, but I knew where I wanted to end it, and figured shorter was better than useless filler just to pad it out_. _A few people managed to guess who it was in advance. I guess it was bound to happen._

_Thanks to all my reviewers! Look at that! Sarah1281 posted my 900th review today. I can't believe it! :D  
_


	86. My, how things have changed

I groaned, putting my face in my hands. "Andraste's tits, too much to worry about," I mumbled to myself, ignoring our guest's sharp inhalation of breath at my casual blasphemy.

Turning back to the man my mind still refused to think of as my father, I pretended not to notice the look he was giving me when my back was turned. It fell somewhere between 'curiosity' and 'horror.' Imagining I was speaking to any random stranger, I forced my mind into work mode and focused on planning our trip. "We should be able to leave by mid-afternoon," I said. "I think the North Road would be best, unless you know of a better route on the smaller roads. Do you have a horse?" He shook his head. I shouldn't have even asked, really. I'd forgotten most people outside the nobility couldn't even _imagine_ owning a horse. "Can you ride?"

"It's been a few years, but I should be fine," he said.

"All right," I said.

"You… don't want to leave sooner?" he asked me.

I raised my eyebrow. "I'm the commanding officer here," I pointed out, "I can't just run off without at least making arrangements with my second in command for while I'm away." Gesturing to the marked candle I went on, "It's only a few hours until dark. You're unarmed _and_ not in armor. The North Road has a _ridiculous_ bandit problem, and even if we changed routes and took the Pilgrim's Path there isn't have a single inn within a six hour ride of the Keep. And that's even if Anders and I are casting haste and rejuvenate spells on the horses all the while. I won't camp out without enough people to keep a decent watch, and riding through the night will just end with us being attacked."

"Huh," he said. "I didn't expect you to _actually_ be the one in charge, being a mage and all. Figured it was a figurehead thing." He didn't _sound_ like that was intended as an insult, and his expression was fairly neutral, but it certainly struck me as one. "And _you're_ afraid of bandit attacks?" He looked fairly amused by this.

"What?" I said, rolling my eyes. "No, I'm _annoyed_ by bandit attacks. And while the two of us could easily kill a dozen bandits on our own I'd honestly prefer not to, especially if we're also trying to make sure someone not in armor isn't injured all the while. I mean, I could probably dig up one of my old swords for you that isn't enchanted specifically for a mage, but you wouldn't fit into any of Anders' spare armor, and you definitely wouldn't fit into mine. Bad enough we might be dealing with darkspawn attacks the entire trip." I blinked. "And _figurehead_? Do you _know_ how many assassination attempts I've had to fend off because someone got a bug up their ass about a mage being put in charge of _anything_? If the Wardens were the type to play games like that, which we're not, I'd make a normal person the figurehead and run things from the background."

"Meant no offense," he said quickly. "Just… curious. Lots of people wouldn't put a mage in charge, what with the Chant and all. Didn't know if the Wardens would."

"We don't really ask someone's religious affiliation before they dedicate themselves to a life killing darkspawn. The Chant means nothing to the Wardens," I said, hoping it would end the discussion.

Hob nodded. "Did you say something about darkspawn attacks?" he sounded horrified.

I nodded. "Unavoidable, really, they seek us out. Thaw still isn't quite over, there'll be roving bands around for another few years yet." He didn't really need to know that I may be specifically targeted by the talking darkspawn, though… and hopefully staying at inns and travel by day would keep that risk to a minimum. He looked confused so I quickly added "the thaw is what we call the period immediately following the death of an archdemon. All those bastards don't go underground right away."

"Oh." He looked horrified by that.

"Don't worry, it's not like the _blight_ or anything. Mostly small warbands, only half a dozen or so in each. Nothing too bad."

The expression on his face told me that wasn't quite the right response. "All right," he said, "um… that isn't what I would call _nothing too bad_, but you're the expert." I nodded. "Who is Anders?"

I could hear him chuckle and stand up. "Have I been rude?" he said, walking over to Hob. "Warden Anders, at your service," he said with an exaggerated bow. "Senior Mage, finest healer in Ferelden, famed apostate, and it would seem I'm also your son in law." Smirking, he added, "hi dad."

Hob shifted uncomfortably. "I… see," he said. "Well, I suppose that explains things." Rubbing his face he offered a small nod. "Impressive right hook."

"Learned it from the dwarf," Anders replied, rocking back on his heels and looking inordinately amused. "We should try and build a relationship of honesty," he said, false sincerity dripping from his voice. I rolled my eyes at this, wondering what Anders planned to say and guessing it wouldn't be designed to make our visitor comfortable. "So to that end, I should also mention that in addition to being a mage I'm also a bastard. A literal bastard, of course; as for figuratively," he shrugged, still smirking, "I suppose that would depend on who you asked. Oh, and my mother was an elf." Turning away from Hob's horrified face Anders directed his attention to me. I wouldn't have picked quite that way to tell him about Anders' background, but I wasn't about to object. He had no reason to be ashamed of who he is. If I asking him to dance around the topic it would certainly imply I thought there was something wrong with it, which couldn't be further from the truth. "Will we be taking Ser Barks and Isolde?"

"Why wouldn't we?" I asked.

"I'm assuming you'll want to haste the horses, they won't be able to keep up. We can't haste three horses and two mabari unless you want to drink a gallon of lyrium a day."

I sighed. Isolde had already stood up and walked over to sit by my feet, looking up. Kneeling, I scratched behind her ears. "We can take the smallest wagon, then," I said. "I promised her I wouldn't leave her behind again." Somehow lying to my mabari didn't seem like it would help strengthen our bond. She made a low snorting sound, letting me know exactly how she would feel about me breaking that promise. "I know, girl, I know," I said.

"That'll add another day," Anders said. "You want to use Griffin?"

"No," I said. "He's a warhorse, he doesn't like being on the wagon."

"Two days, then," he said.

I looked over at Hob. "I assume time is of the essence?"

"You could say that, yes" he replied, still looking slightly shocked.

I cursed again and kicked the leg of a table. "Fine. Griffin can suffer through it. We'll leave in the morning; I may end up sleeping in the wagon. I'll be up half the night."

Anders sighed and walked over to me. Calling "excuse us" in an indifferent voice, he pulled me into the bedroom and shut the door. "Stop, you will not," he said. "You don't always have to do _everything_. Nathaniel can handle it."

"Lately I feel like I haven't been doing _anything_."

"You've done more for the Grey Wardens than anyone has in centuries," he said. "If you want to take a couple weeks off I'm sure it'll be fine; you didn't even take a _day_ off when we got home from Orlais," he pointed out, brushing my hair back from my face. "If we leave in an hour we can make it to Amaranthine only an hour after dark, that should give us a decent head start."

"Am I being an idiot?" I asked.

"Maybe a bit," he shrugged. "Not that I can blame you. I would probably do the same in your position." He put an arm around me. "And I know if we're too late you'll never forgive yourself."

"You're right," I said.

"Go talk to Nathaniel, I'll pack. Bet you he's already got the wagon ready for us."

"Can I trust you not to kill him?" I asked, gesturing towards the sitting room. "Or say anything that will send him screaming and running from the building?"

He made a face and sighed. "I suppose," Anders said. "If you want I'll even make polite small talk. I get the distinct impression he isn't particularly fond of me, though. No idea _why_."

"All right," I said, opening the door. Our guest was looking around the room quietly, a strange expression on his face. "I'm going to do what I can to see if we can leave tonight," I said.

Nathaniel was in the main hall with Sigrun, laughing over a book of what looked to be drawings of Orlesian fashions.

"You want the little wagon, right?" he said. "I had them get it ready for you."

"How'd you know?"

He didn't answer. Instead, Nathaniel turned to Sigrun, holding out an open hand. "Damn you," Sigrun said, reaching into a pocket. She handed him a coin and turned to me, adding "figured you'd want to go on horseback."

"Dogs," I said.

"Knew it," Nathaniel nodded.

I flopped into a chair near them. "I feel like a jerk," I admitted. "We have so much work to do, and I'm running off on some… whatever this is."

"You'll regret it if you don't," Sigrun said. "And if she's really dying it's not like you can put this off. It's now or never."

"She's right," Nathaniel agreed. "We both know what happened with them still eats away at you." He gave me a pointed look. I nodded, not needing to say any more. After all, Nathaniel was the one who had been subjected to my fever-induced ranting about my father a few years earlier.

"I just hate neglecting work like this. And I haven't exactly been at my best lately as it is."

"You know what your problem is?" Sigrun said. I waited for her to continue. "You read all those old stories, heroes and wars Dane and Garahel and stone knows what else, and you think that's what they were really like, and what you're supposed to be. They all got hurt, they all had bad days. That part just didn't end up in the books."

"Yeah, but—"

She cut me off. "Yeah but Hafter actually took on over a hundred darkspawn at once and won? I read that book, too." I did grin at that, she had a point. "You haven't been at your best lately, but who would be after what happened to you?" Sigrun set her glass down. "You've been getting better, though. And if you don't do this you'll be a wreck from regret after."

"All right," I said. "I don't know how long I'll be, but if you need me send something to Redcliffe Castle. I'll leave a forwarding address with Teagan's people." After that I said goodbye to Oghren, who tried to talk me out of leaving, and Jowan who told me he would go, too, if it was him.

"You were right," I called, walking back into our room. "Nathaniel has the wagon ready and waiting." Turning to Hob, who had started looking at the various pictures on our walls, I told him we just had to change and finish packing before heading back into the bedroom.

"Knew it!" Anders said, sounding pleased. He had changed into armor, staff and broadsword on his back, knife tucked into his belt. I glanced at it and raised my eyebrows. "Better safe than sorry," was all he said.

"I still don't like it," I muttered.

Anders smirked. "My, how things have changed."

"Funny, isn't it," I admitted, pulling my robes off.

"Hm, what?" he said. "Sorry, I was distracted by the… no robes thing."

I laughed at that, pulling on my armor. "Well, I'll probably appreciate some distraction when we get to the inn, so hold that thought a few hours."

"That long?" Anders asked, watching me pull on my leggings.

"What _will_ you do when I'm old and falling apart and you're still stuck with me?"

He laughed at that. "There's the beauty in my marrying you plan. Besides neither of us really getting _old _in any technical sense… no matter how old we do manage to get, I'm still going to bed with a younger woman."

"Only a few years."

"Still counts," he said, buckling my armor.

"Is this a mistake?" I asked him again.

"Who knows," he said. "I think you're really stuck. No matter what you choose you'll be miserable. At least this is misery without spending the rest of your life wondering." He was silent for a moment. "Just… don't get your hopes up."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I don't know, I just… well, let's say I get the impression he'd rather go the rest of his life without ever seeing you, _regardless_ of your feelings, and is just doing this for his wife."

"So do I," I whispered. "I caught him looking at the rack of staves, he looked..."

"Horrified?" Anders completed. I nodded. "Yeah. He asked about a few of the pictures. His comment on that drawing from our wedding was that you looked 'very pretty,' but more specifically that you looked like your mother, and that he was surprised by how 'normal' we looked."

"Normal?" I said. "Well, maybe it's the Grey Warden thing. Or the famous thing, since we kind of are. I mean, he's a farmer. We're friends with the king. Just _seeing_ a king gives most people stories they tell for years. We were in his wedding and exchange First Day gifts. And you haven't been exactly _welcoming_."

"I know," Anders said, "and I'll stop, it's all out of my system now. Something tells me that has nothing to do with it, though. The impression I got was that he didn't mean normal in a 'just common people' sense. More like normal in a 'not a monster' sense. Just be careful. I know why you want to do this, but don't…" he looked up, clearly hunting for the right words. "Don't assume they'll welcome you with open arms."

I nodded. I didn't _exactly_ expect them to, but I thought since he came all the way here, and had evidently _walked_ from the city, alone on a two day trip, maybe… who knows. I wasn't sure what I expected. Or wanted. "I'll be careful," I promised. Anders nodded.

"We should be ready then," Anders said. "I even put in some normal person clothes and the books we're reading now."

"Did you get my bag? With my pictures in it?"

"First thing," he said. I nodded and went to the closet grabbing one more thing. Slipping a white tunic over my head, I tossed an identical match to Anders. "_Really_?" he said, eyeing the blue griffin on the front.

"If we're out after dark this is added insurance," I pointed out. "Bandits may see this and just let us pass."

"Or they may see this and assume we have money."

I rolled my eyes. "We have a horse. _Multiple_ horses. They'll _know_ we have money." I unlocked a small closet near our bed and removed a single book, double checking to make sure it was locked again when I was done. "Might as well read this now," I said, passing it to him.

Anders flipped it over in his hands. "_Spellbook_," he said, chuckling at the Tevinter word embossed on the leather cover. "Now there's a descriptive title. Doesn't even have an author listed!" Opening it he made a face. "I don't get it," he said after a moment. "Every single spell says 'begin in the usual fashion, and then…' What in Thedas do they mean by 'the usual fashion'?"

"Really?" I asked. "You can't tell? Hm… dusty old Tevinter spellbook with obscure descriptions and a vague title. What _could_ they mean?"

"I think I'm starting to understand," Anders said, glancing at the knife in my belt.

I went on anyways, enjoying myself. "The usual fashion may mean you should get out of bed before casting. Or grab a staff. Or point your hands at what you want dead."

"All right, all right," he said. "I've got it. I'll read your creepy illegal spellbook and memorize all sorts of horrifying things."

"Good," I said. "I mean, you went and did this, so we might as well use it to the Warden's advantage."

"Yes, Ser," he laughed, replacing his weapons once he'd belted the tunic. "We ready?"

"Yeah," I said, sighing.

Walking out, I grabbed a staff from the rack. "Do you buy those?" Hob asked. When I gave him a curious look he shrugged. "I mean, I've never seen anything like that in a normal store."

"Not this one," I said, holding the blue-tinted staff up. "This specific staff was a wedding gift. I suspect it was imported from the Imperium, I've never seen one this nice in Ferelden. But yes, there are places to buy them in most major cities."

"Huh," he said. "Most people get dishes."

"The king knows she can't cook," Anders said.

"You can't cook!" he said, apparently more shocked by that than Anders casually mentioning Alistair giving us wedding gifts.

"Why would you expect I could?" I asked.

"You're a woman, aren't you?" He looked appalled.

"Find a man who can kill darkspawn better than me and I promise I'll learn to make a decent roast," I said, rolling my eyes and walking out of the room.

"Don't look at me," I heard Anders say as I whistled for the dogs. "Most of my time is spent putting her back together once she's done with the killing."

Yes, this was going splendidly so far.

On the way out we were delayed more than once. First came Aidan and Jowan, who wanted to ask Anders something about his advanced healing classes. Or, that was what they said. In reality Aidan wanted to gawk at Hob and Jowan wanted to shoot dirty looks. Once we managed to extract ourselves from that I was stopped by Ronan, Arthur, and Roland. Something told me the three of them were all more than a little drunk, and judging by the absurd questions they had for me about basement access, of all things, it was just their attempt to get a look at the latest source of gossip.

"Andraste's bloody rags, can we get out of here so our entire trip isn't in the dark?" I muttered, giving Tobias a glare when I saw him stumbling over with Oghren. He just laughed and veered off in the other direction with a wave. "Sorry," I said, helping the dogs into the wagon while Anders loaded our bags. "You'll have to ride in the back, the bench only seats two."

"That's fine," he said quickly. "I walked here from the city; not having to walk again is a luxury."

Once we were moving Anders looked over at me and nodded. "Hold on tight," I called towards the back. Raising my hand towards the horses I cast a quick spell. The land on either side became a blur as they sped up. I heard a horrified "Maker's breath" from behind us.

"Just a basic haste spell," Anders shouted so he could be heard over the hooves. "It'll cut the travel time in half." If there was a response I couldn't hear it.

We let the horses slow to their normal speed, rejuvenating them, once night fell. Holding my staff in front of me I lit the road ahead of us as best I could. Although at one point I suspected I saw bandits in wait on the side of the road, nothing made a move towards us. We made it to the city without incident. "Is there something going on?" Anders asked the guard when we stabled the horses. There were far more coaches and wagons than usual outside the city gate.

"Bear baiting," he said. I couldn't help but make a face at that. At the same time I could hear Hob make a noise of interest. Well, he'd be on his own with that, I had no problem killing a bear to defend myself but watching one get tortured for hours just seemed too gruesome, even for me. "Contortionists, too," he added, probably seeing my expression.

"Oh, I do like contortionists," I said almost without thinking.

"You _are_ a contortionist," Anders said close to my ear. He evidently hadn't been quiet enough, since Hob cleared his throat loudly behind us. I tried really, _really_ hard not to laugh. I mostly succeeded. Other than one, or perhaps two, tiny giggles that slipped out. I mean, really, it was about twenty four years too late to become an overprotective father. "You know," Anders said as we walked towards the inn, "I think I'm ready to turn in for the night."

"You are _horrible_," I whispered.

"Am I now?" he replied. "That's not what you usually say."

"All right, enough," I said, walking into the inn. We had to halt in the doorway: a barfight was in progress. "Hey!" I shouted, but no one answered. Jumping on a table I yelled once more. Even that didn't seem to stop anyone. Shrugging, I met the bartender's eyes and grinned. A moment later we were all looking at a much calmer group. Probably because frozen people tend to make very little trouble. "That should calm them down," I said, cutting through the room. Anders was right on my heels. After spinning around several times, looking at my work, Hob slowly joined us. "Two rooms, meals for all of us."

"We'll eat upstairs," Anders added. We remained just long enough to make sure the fighters shuffled outside one by one as they defrosted, a few who recognized me offering a bow. Since Hob had also elected to eat in his room the three of us walked upstairs. We wished him goodnight before heading into our room, which was next to his. "Didn't we spend our wedding night in this room?" Anders asked.

"I think so," I said.

"Well, that would explain the plaque on the wall reading 'Griffin Suite'," he laughed.

"Oh Maker," I gasped, walking in. It would also explain the _horrible_ painting of us above the fireplace. The dogs trotted off to a corner of the room, where both promptly registered their complete lack of concern over bad art by falling asleep on several large cushions.

"So what do you think?" Anders asked while we sat on the bed eating.

"I think he… well, I don't know _what_ he was expecting," I said. But I'm pretty sure it wasn't me." Anders raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "Cooking? What does he think I am?"

"A housewife, evidently," Anders said. "A housewife-mage-Grey Warden."

"Something tells me they wouldn't be very compatible." I said, getting up and putting my bowl on one of the small tables before unbuckling my armor. Anders leaned back on the bed, watching me undress. "You always do that," I said. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"I know that," he said, working on his own armor. "You've seen my legs plenty of times, but that didn't stop you from staring at them earlier." Anders smirked at me when I made a face. "Don't even deny it."

"I could say the same to you," I replied, climbing into bed.

"Of course I was staring at your legs," Anders said matter-of-factly. Dropping the last of his armor he hopped onto the foot of the bed, drawing the curtains closed. "Sorry, just don't like the dogs watching. It's creepy."

"And Isolde will think we're fighting," I said. "Which is… well, I don't want to explain it to a mabari, that's for sure."

"Good," Anders replied, grabbing one of my ankles. "Anyways. Back to the subject of your legs. I have dreams about these legs. Well, when I'm not having dreams about darkspawn. The ones about your legs are _much_ better, though." Giggling, I tried to pull my ankle from his grasp. "Hey, you wanted a distraction!"

"We should probably keep it down," I said.

Anders stared at me for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You're right," he managed after a moment, still laughing. "Wouldn't… oh, Maker," he picked up a pillow to muffle his hysterics, eyes tearing up. "We wouldn't want your _father_ to hear us!" He fell back to the pillows next to me, still chuckling. "Do you have any idea how many years it's been since I've had a chance to say that? And _never_ with another mage!"

I crawled under the blankets and made a face. "I don't want to think about it," I said.

"Well you _are_," he pointed out, joining me and rolling to his side once he was settled. "What's on your mind?"

"I want to go home," I sighed. "I want to be back at work. I don't want to be here, doing this."

"We can leave," he said. "Give him money for a horse and send him on his way."

"No," I said. "I'd like to look my mother in the eye once before she's dead." I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what I could expect at the other end of this trip.

"Stop," Anders said, sliding closer to me. "Stop worrying, stop talking."

"Good idea," I said as he kissed my throat. I giggled and ducked below the blankets. "Oh _hello_," I said, seeing just how ready to stop talking Anders was. He groaned as I put my lips around him, fumbling with the blankets.

"Let me see you," he whispered, pulling the covers aside. I looked up at him as he pushed my hair back from my face. As his breath quickened Anders gradually tightened his grip on my hair. Before long he was holding me steady while moving his hips.

With what might have been the loudest shout I'd ever heard from him outside of battle, Anders pushed my head down roughly. He released his grip on my hair as his entire body seemed to go limp into the mattress.

Still working on catching his breath, Anders gestured to me. "Come here," he said. I slid back up to the head of the bed and into his arms. Making a noise of contentment, he ran his hand through my hair, smoothing it out and mumbling "love you" quietly.

"Good?" I asked. I knew the answer, but it was always nice to hear it.

He nodded, staring at the ceiling. "Good," Anders said after a moment. "Very good. So much for keeping the noise down. That was _your_ fault."

"Me?" I said, grinning at him. "I don't think so. Not with the way you were holding me by my hair. You were definitely the one in charge there."

He drew in a sharp breath, shifting to his side. "Oh, Maker, I didn't even realize… I'm so sorry—"

"For what?"

"I wasn't too rough or…?"

Oh, that again. "It's _me_, you really think I wouldn't let you know if it bothered me? Or that you wouldn't be able to tell instantly?" He didn't answer so I moved closer to him, pressing myself tightly against his chest. "I liked it." I'd actually missed how things were before he started acting like I'd go into hysterics if he was at all rough or assertive with me. I just hadn't been entirely sure how to articulate it. Well, not without sounding slightly crazy, at least.

There was just enough light from the fireplace for me to see his pleased smirk. "Really? Hmmm…" Anders grabbed me and pulled me closer for a kiss, one hand on the back of my head. His other hand trailed across my chest, fingers brushing against a nipple in an almost absentminded fashion. "Show me."

"Huh?' I mumbled, not sure what he was talking about and distracted by his fingers.

"You said you liked it, I want to see how much." He sat up, looking at me expectantly. I rolled onto my back and spread my legs; Anders was between them seconds later. "Quite a bit, it seems," he said, leaning forward so I could feel his breath on my skin. It was making me shiver. I sucked in a breath, feeling his teeth on my thigh. He was running his hand across my skin, somehow managing to touch everywhere but the places I wanted him to the most. Ignoring my squirms, he switched his bites to the other leg. He didn't even respond as I started to plead and beg. "You have no patience," Anders said, looking up at me.

"I know," I replied.

"Well, as long as you're aware of your flaws." His breath felt hot on my damp skin. The words were barely out before I felt his tongue against me.

"Thank you," I gasped, my hips matching his pace. I tried my best to muffle my voice, not sure how soundproof the rooms here were. That would have been difficult on an average day, but Anders seemed to be taking my need for distraction very seriously. I soon found myself screaming with my arm pressed over my mouth, a fistful of his hair clenched in my hand as magic poured into me from his fingertips. I could feel him moving on the mattress, but was barely aware of where I was as his spell continued.

"Look at me," he demanded. I opened my eyes; Anders was watching my face from above me. He had shifted so he was now reaching down between us. As I held his gaze his spell cut off and Anders removed his hand. I began to sag back against the bed with a sigh. Smirking, he shook his head. "We're not done yet," Anders said. Before I could respond he thrust deep into me, drawing an involuntary cry.

"Oh Maker," I gasped, smirking slightly. As I expected, Anders all but growled in response. Thrusting harder, he asked if it was the Maker I felt. I shuddered and began gasping his name; he grinned and kissed me roughly in response. Begging him not to stop, I held onto him tightly, my nails on his back.

I could hear him gasp my name when I let my eyes close, back arching sharply. Anders shoved his hand between us and began rubbing, not giving my clenching muscles a chance to relax. Burying his face against my neck, he cried out and bit down before collapsing onto me.

"Mmm…" I said, stretching after Anders rolled off me.

"Good?" he asked while tossing me a towel, sounding pleased with himself.

"Very," I said, throwing the towel on the floor and opening the bed curtains enough for the dogs. I curled up under the blankets next to Anders. Putting an arm around me, he made a grunt of surprise as both dogs stepped on his legs. We both looked down at them and started laughing.

"Ugh, too tired," Anders said after a moment.

"Me too," I agreed. "I'm almost too nervous to sleep, though." Sighing, I rested my head against his chest. "Just the idea of having a family. It's so strange. I mean, I can't really remember ever having one."

He chuckled. "You have a family already without them. You do realize that, don't you?"

"Is this going to be something about how the Grey Wardens are my family?"

"What, am I suddenly _you_?" he snorted. "No, that wasn't it at all. I meant _me_." I looked up at him. "Wow, thank you, _wife_," Anders said, sounding more amused than annoyed. "Glad to be remembered."

I giggled at that. "I'm sorry. I just… never thought of it like that." Yawning, my eyes began to close. "That's good, though."

Anders mirrored my yawn. "I'd like to think so," he said.

* * *

_Ah, bear baiting and contortionists, typical classy medieval entertainment. (well, late medieval, in the case of the bears).  
Thanks to all my reviewers!_


	87. I was under orders

"Anders, stop the wagon," I called, looking out into the woods lining the road. We were halfway to Highever, already well into the teyrnir.

"How far," he asked, cutting off the haste spell and drawing back on the reigns.

"Half a mile, maybe less," I said, pointing.

He closed his eyes and nodded after a moment. "Got them, I was too distracted by trying to make sure we didn't ram into anyone while we were going so fast." I'd expected as much, which was exactly why I'd been paying closer attention than usual. "Coming in fast," he said, making a face.

We had left the inn not long after dawn and made impressive time, only passing a few people on the road. It looked like we would actually reach Highever by dark, an impressive feat. Granted, Anders was driving the horses at a brutal pace, and I was rejuvenating both of them almost once an hour. I glanced back at Hob. "See that bundle?" I pointed at a burlap wrapped item strapped to the side of the wagon. "Grab it. There should be a couple swords and a dagger wrapped up in there. They're fairly awful weapons, but better than nothing. We just keep them there in case someone breaks a blade."

"What is it?" he asked, already doing what I told him.

"Darkspawn," I said. "Maybe a dozen."

"You want me to fight with you?" To his credit he didn't sound like he was asking a question, merely confirming.

"No, not if it can be avoided," I said quickly. "We're immune to the darkspawn plague, you're not. I just don't want you unarmed. I like to be prepared."

He looked extremely relieved, not that I could blame him. I was impressed that he would have been willing to help, though. Anders and I hopped from the wagon and whistled for the dogs. He walked a good distance away and I quickly followed, blades already drawn. Hopefully they would rush us and leave Hob and the horses alone.

Isolde crouched next to me, growling. I could hear Ser Barks doing the same next to Anders. I glanced over and met his eyes. "Let's make this look impressive," he said with a smirk. Before I could respond they were breaking the tree line, rushing for us. We flew into action, Anders providing ranged support while I moved in close, taking them out one by one. The dogs immediately raced for the woods, ripping through the archers who had stopped just beyond the trees.

Four hurlocks tried to surround me, so focused on their target that they didn't see Anders coming up behind them. He winked and I dropped to the ground without warning, casting a freezing spell before quickly slicing through the calves of the two at my back. At the same time I felt the heads of the two that had been at my front bounce off me, still smoking from the lightning spell Anders had hit them with first. With their muscles cut, both of my own targets collapsed to the ground. Jumping back to my feet I plunged my daggers into the chest of one, shouting as the other bit my leg, just above my knee.

"Son of a bitch," I screamed, turning and slamming the pommel of a dagger on his head so he let go of my leg, before quickly finishing him off. He had managed to shake off my frost spell in less time than I expected and went up on his arms to try and reach the artery in my leg. I yelled "must it _always_ be my legs?" in annoyance, punctuating each word with a kick. Wade was going to kill me if I needed another pair of leggings made. This was why I had him use drakeskin instead of the more expensive dragonskin, dragonwing, or Maker forbid, the archdemon.

Turning I saw Anders circling with an emissary, laughing as he cast spells from one side, with his dog attacking from the other. Isolde was attempting to take on two genlocks at once, the last of the darkspawn beyond the small group's leader. Jumping to her side I was just in time to hear her howl in pain. Screaming in rage, I struck the darkspawn with lightning. Releasing her, it flew back, smoking. Automatically, she turned and finished him, ripping out his throat while I froze and shattered her other attacker.

"I think that's it," Anders called. "Injuries?"

"I got a bite on the leg, but check Isolde first." She was whimpering in pain and looking up at me. I sat next to her; she automatically rested her head on my lap while I tried to calm her down. "it's all right," I said, petting her.

"That's pretty bad," Anders said, examining the wound. "Nothing I can't fix, but I'll need to clean it first." She didn't like that idea and tried to get up while Anders jogged back to the wagon for water. I ordered her to stay still, she replied by giving me her saddest eyes possible.

"If you want to get better, he has to clean the wound. You know Anders isn't doing it to be mean." She snorted at that. He returned not long after and began gently rinsing off her wound, Hob standing by in the background. He was occasionally using a clean rag to try and wipe away the debris that had gotten into it. Isolde did manage stay still the whole time, but made horrible sounds of pain, looking up at me for help. I tried to reassure her and praised her for staying still, fighting back tears all the while.

"All right," Anders finally said. "The dirt is out, and we just have to hope we got all the saliva, too." He began casting spells. Hob had come over once all the darkspawn were dead to stand near us. Watching her wound knit closed, he made a noise of amazement. In moments Isolde was up on her feet again, running circles around us. "Your turn," he said to me.

"Try and save the leggings," I said. "They're just drakeskin, but that still isn't exactly cheap. It isn't bad; I can probably pull them off myself."

Anders gave me a dubious glance. "I've heard that one before," he said. "Let me be the judge." Looking at the wound through the rip he nodded. "Fine," Anders said, helping me up. Our travel companion was apparently intent on watching Anders work. Once he heard Anders order me to lie back on the ground he turned back to us.

"Always my damned legs," I said as Anders examined my injury. "No idea why."

"Because darkspawn strive to destroy everything that's beautiful and good in this world," Anders said, poking at the wound. "Your legs would top that list. Wasn't I just telling you that last night?"

I laughed at that. "They're several years too late, then," I said. "My legs will never be half as nice as they were before the blight."

"Nonsense," Anders said. "You know there are several _teeth_ broken off in here, don't you?"

"Ew," I muttered, shifting to look.

"How did you kill him?" Anders asked.

"Pommel to the head to get him off me, and then I went with lightning," I said. "Why?"

Anders hummed, slowly removing each of the needle-sharp teeth. "Wondering how they snapped off in place. That would do it." He chuckled. "Want to keep them? Make a necklace?"

"Nah, I'm good," I said, laughing.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Hob looked slightly green watching Anders dig darkspawn incisors out of my flesh.

"Well, it doesn't feel _good_," I said. "But it isn't too bad. Nothing broken, really just a flesh wound. If I wasn't with a healer I'd just dig the teeth out myself and slap a poultice on it. It'll be nice not to get another scar, though." He didn't reply and I looked over at Anders. "What do you think about Isolde?" I asked him.

"Not sure," he said. Mabari were smart enough not to swallow darkspawn blood, and seemed to have a much higher tolerance for ingesting small amounts than people, but a bite was always much worse. "We'll have to keep a close eye on her for a few days."

At that a tear did manage to escape. "If she doesn't… well, I don't think I'll get another dog again."

"Don't be silly," he said. "You love dogs. And you're used to fighting with one again by now. You'd be crippling yourself."

"I know," I said. "But losing Dane at the end of the Blight was so hard. I couldn't go through that a third time." I sighed, looking over at the dogs rolling around in the grass together. "And it seems too cruel… get another dog just so they can suffer and die?"

"There's always the j—" Anders cut himself off and coughed. "Well, you know."

"There is," I agreed. "And I'll certainly try if that's the only chance she has."

"Your dog's name was Dane?" Hob looked amused.

"Go on, laugh it up," I said. "Everyone else does. I thought it was clever, how should I know that's what every child in Ferelden names their first dog?" I sighed. "He was a good dog."

"No, it's just… that's what you named your dog when you were three," he said.

Anders paused in his work, grabbing my shoulder to steady himself when he started laughing. "Ha! That's _fantastic_," he said. "And you were how old at the start of the blight?"

"I don't know. Two and twenty years… I think. I don't even know how old I am _now_!" I made a face at him. "Come on, fix my damned leg so we can get going. We still need to burn the bodies."

"You're almost thirty," Hob broke in to say. "You were born on the tenth of Solace in the 8th year of the Dragon Age," he said. "You didn't know?"

"Nope," I said. "They tell us as little about our lives before the Circle as they can, and I didn't know it myself. Actually, come to think of it, _they_ may not have known."

"Heh," Anders said, returning his attention to my injury. "You're almost thirty. Old lady."

I tried to kick him. "Hey, you're five years older than me!"

"That doesn't count, and stay still," he said, grabbing my hip to steady me. "You want to rip this open more?" He poked at me a few more times. "There," Anders said. "Last tooth. Maker's breath there was a lot of them." He passed me the pile, I poked through them for a moment before conjuring a flame, brushing the ash off on the grass. "Done."

"All right," I said, hopping up. "Bodies, then let's go before any more decide to investigate what happened to this group."

Standing next to the pile of darkspawn, I aimed a fire spell. Anders was next to me. "All of mine were normal," he whispered.

"Not me," I replied. "I want to find out what's happening, but not when we're dragging a non-Warden across the country."

Anders made a noise of agreement. "I think we're being eavesdropped on," he went on, switching to Tevinter. "Nosey old man, isn't he?"

"People usually are when Grey Wardens standing over piles of dead darkspawn start whispering," I responded in the same language. Anders chuckled at that. "The one that bit Isolde, when I looked closer it had some facepaint. Didn't talk," I went on, whispering still.

"_Fantastic," _Anders said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He didn't even bother to disguise those words with a foreign language. "I'll mark the map." He shook off his hands and stepped back. I did the same, after reaching out with my mind to see if I could still sense any corruption from the large pile of ashes in front of us.

"We're good," I said, grabbing my leggings and heading back to the wagon.

We made it to Highever without any other incidents, and secured rooms for the night. Anders and I had just started to fall asleep when someone began pounding on our door. "I'll see what it is," he said, kissing me before climbing out of bed, closing the curtains again. I could hear him stumbling around to put something on before opening the door. "What is it?" he said, opening the door.

"Ser, your travel companion is… unwell. We were hoping you could see to him."

"Unwell?" I called.

Anders sighed. "He means drunk, Maggie."

I groaned. "You're kidding me."

"Apologies, my lady," he called.

I could hear Anders mumble something and the door close. "I won't be long," he said. Opening the curtains I watched him pull on the leggings from his armor and the long Warden tunic, not bothering with armor under it. Leaning over to kiss me again, he told me to try and get some sleep. It was no surprise that I was still awake when Anders returned much later. I listened to the familiar sound of him undressing and taking off his boots. He sighed getting into bed, cursing under his breath.

"What happened?" I said.

He pulled me into his arms. "Why are you still up?"

"You know I can't fall asleep without you," I said. "Especially when we're not at home. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing," he said. "He just had too much to drink, got in a bit of a fight, and passed out."

"Nothing!" I said, sitting up. "He's getting in drunken barfights? Maker's breath! That doesn't sound like _nothing_."

Anders pulled me back down. "It's all right, I took care of it."

"Did you kill him?"

"I put him to bed and cast a sleep spell on him," he said. "Calm down, let's get some sleep." Anders wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. Although I didn't consider 'drunken barfights' to be anywhere near the neighborhood of 'all right,' I was too tired to argue.

The next morning I demanded Anders give me a more detailed account of the previous night while we dressed. He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "If I had to guess?" he said. I nodded. "I suspect he's of a mind to drink himself to death."

I sat down. "But _why_? Didn't he say he was raising his brother's children?"

"He did," Anders said, "when he was sober. When I was trying to drag him to his room last night, well…" He stood up and finished buckling his armor. "I don't think they were anywhere _near _on his mind."

Anders was almost as bad at subtle as me. "What don't you want to tell me?"

"Maggie, his wife's dying, what do you think he talked about? Imagine how one of us would react in his place, and, well, he's probably not far off."

I tried to do just that, wincing at the very idea. "I didn't even think of it like that," I admitted, feeling guilty. "That poor man."

Anders groaned, putting his hands over his eyes. "Don't get too sympathetic," was all he said after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, I shouldn't have even brought it up. Why don't we just forget this entire conversation."

I hopped to my feet and walked towards him. "Is this some kind of game?" I asked. "Have you decided this has all been so damned easy you need to make things more frustrating for me to keep yourself entertained? Can you _please _just spit whatever it is that's _clearly _bothering you out already and stop making me beg for scraps of information like it's a bloody test of wits?" I kicked a chair, knocking it over in the process.

He winced, stepping back. "You'll be happier not knowing," he warned me.

"Yeah, well, I've gotten _really good_ at learning things like that," I said, rolling my eyes. 'Things you would have been happier not knowing' could be the subtitle of the 'Welcome to the Grey Wardens' speech, after all.

Anders sat down on the bed and looked over at me, gesturing to a spot at his side. I sat next to him and waited. "It's just as well, I suppose," he said, "since someone else may say something when we're leaving. Apparently he was drunk and telling everyone who would listen, and more than a few who didn't want to, that he had been cursed by the Maker. That's why they came to get one of us; he was driving everyone nuts and so drunk he probably couldn't even see straight."

"That's it?" I said, raising my eyebrow. "That's what you've been so nervous to tell me?"

"He's been cursed by the Maker," Anders said, "because his children were both monsters and now he's losing the only reason he has to live." _Oh_. "It… well, it gets worse," Anders said. "When I went to get him—" he sighed. "It's my fault, really. I shouldn't have worn that damned Warden tunic. I just didn't feel like putting on armor or a whole set of robes just to run downstairs and come back again. I get down there and he made some comment about how his mage daughter sent her mage husband to deal with the problem."

"I thought you said he was passed out?" I finally asked.

"_Knocked_ out would probably have been more accurate. And that's coming." I tensed, knowing this wouldn't be good. "Anyways, after his comment about his daughter's husband a few people looked at me and I guess someone saw the griffin and pieced it together, or recognized me, or _something_, but… ultimately they managed to figure out who _I _was, or at least who I was _married to_." He made a face. "I should have known... there aren't many mages in the Wardens, and we're probably the most famous mages in the country."

"Andraste's bloody rags," I groaned.

"Pretty much my thoughts, too," Anders said. "Especially when someone who made _Alistair_ look scrawny stood up and announced to the room that the mage he had been calling a monster all night was 'The Hero of Ferelden.'"

"Oh no…"

"And then punched Hob in the face," Anders said finally. "I managed to calm everyone down and get him up to his room. About halfway there he came to and started going on about his wife, so I just cast a sleep spell on him." He looked over at me and asked "can you see why I didn't want to tell you?"

I nodded. "I can't really say I'm _surprised_, though," I said after a moment. "I mean, at _best_ he's been acting like I'm a… curiosity of some kind." Anders nodded, squeezing my hand. "I don't know, you'd think if someone found out their estranged child had…"

"Saved the world and become a national hero?" Anders completed for me, smirking.

"I _guess_ you could put it that way," I said, making a face at him. "But yeah, you'd think he would _mention_ it. 'Good job' or something."

"I noticed that, too," Anders said. Giving me a hug he said "well, _I _think you did a _fantastic_ job with the whole ending the blight killing the archdemon thing, for what it's worth."

"It's worth a lot more than his opinion is," I said, kissing him on the cheek. Jumping to my feet, I quickly pulled off my armor.

"Really?" Anders said. "I can't see how _any_ of that conversation would inspire you to strip… not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"I'm not stripping," I said. "Well, no, I _am_ stripping, but not like that. It's because I'm changing." I pulled my bright blue and Grey Warden mage robes from our trunk. Once they were on I smoothed the fur on my shoulders and reached into our trunk once more, retrieving a equally bright cowl with a griffin embroidered at the front.

"_Really_?" Anders said, looking at me. "A _cowl_?"

"Yep," I said. "Be glad it's not my big pointy one with all the metal dangly bits. This one's practically just a hood in comparison." Anders shook his head, chuckling. "He thinks I'm such a monster when we're dragging ourselves across the whole of Ferelden for him, well, I'm not going out of my way to hide what I am."

"By which you mean you're going to rub it in his face," Anders smirked, unbuckling his own armor. I hopped up to sit on the table in our room. "You're just going to sit there and watch me get changed?" I nodded, grinning. "Well that hardly seems fair."

"You watched me change," I said.

"But now you're dressed," Anders pointed out after dropping the last of his armor to the floor.

"Funny thing about clothes. They can come off."

"I don't think we have nearly as much time as you seem to think we do," Anders said, walking over to me. "Stand up."

"Even so," I said, dropping to my feet. "You seem to like the idea." I couldn't help but smirk as I wrapped my hand around the very obvious sign of how much my suggestion was appealing to him.

Anders groaned, leaning against me. "What can I say," he managed after a moment, "there's something exciting about being objectified." He batted my hand away and reached under my robes, yanking my underwear down over my hips. "You know we'll have to rush," he warned me.

"Rushed is better than nothing," I said.

It turned out we had even less time than either of us realized, since someone began knocking on our door not long after. Unfortunately at that exact moment my robes were pushed up to my waist and I was bent over the table. "Shit," I muttered, probably too loudly.

"Um… just a minute," Anders called, not able to hide being out of breath.

"Should I wait for you downstairs?" called a voice through the door.

"Yes!" we both replied in unison.

Anders collapsed onto me, giggling. "Caught by your father. How embarrassing!"

"That's no reason to _stop_," I said, looking over my shoulder.

"It usually is, actually," Anders said, remaining frustratingly still. I tried to move my hips and he grabbed me, holding me steady.

"Well he left!" I said, getting frustrated. "So _un-_stop."

He chuckled, biting my earlobe. "Is that an order, Commander?"

"If it has to be," I said, starting to giggle with him.

"Oh, I think it might," Anders said, standing up straighter.

"Fine!" I said, trying not to laugh. "I order you to screw me. Right now! On this table!"

"Do you?" he said, reaching around my hip. Anders held me steady when my knees started to sag as his fingers moved between my legs.

"Yes!" I said. "Get to work, Warden!"

"Yes, Ser!"

We eventually managed to make our way downstairs. The innkeeper cornered us, demanding the money to cover Hob's drinks from the night before. Apparently he'd told them to put everything on the room's bill. "Fine," I said, handing over a coin. Hob stood not far away, looking at his feet with an embarrassed expression on his face. Rightfully so, I though.

"Ser, this is too much," the innkeeper said.

"Um.." I blushed. "The table in our room broke. That should cover replacing it, right?"

"Broke?" he said, sounding shocked. "What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

"No… no one was hurt." Fighting back giggles I added "there was an incident."

At last we left. "How did you break a table?" Hob asked Anders.

"I was under orders," was all he would reply. I burst out laughing, nearly dropping my bag as I tried to load it into the wagon.

Our goal was to make it to Kinloch Hold that evening, where we could stay at the inn, and hopefully arrive at our destination the next day. It was near dusk when I saw a group of people walking on the road. "Anders, look," I pointed out. "They have no _shoes_."

"You're right!" he sounded as horrified as I felt. Anders drew back on the reins as we came along side them. "Are you all right?" he called down.

"Just fine," said the man leading the group. "We're on pilgrimage."

"Where are you going?" I asked. Most people would walk from Denerim to Amaranthine, which was the route Andraste took when she left Ferelden to fight the Imperium. Now that we were closer I could see it was a large family, or perhaps two families traveling together. Four adults and a handful of children, all different ages.

"Haven," he said. "To see the ashes."

"What happened to your shoes?" I asked him, horrified.

"The Chant says Andraste faced the magisters in her bare feet, since she couldn't afford shoes," he replied. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"She didn't fight in four feet of mountaintop snow," I said. "You go to Haven in bare feet and you'll lose a toe to frostbite. Maybe even a whole foot." He looked dubious so I went on, saying "trust me, I've been there myself. It's _cold_, even in the summer."

They began talking among themselves and Anders leaned across me on the bench. "Here," he said, handing the man a couple coins. "That should buy you all shoes when you get to Kinloch Hold. There's a store right near the entrance of the town run by a dwarven family. They're good people and won't cheat you." Looking at me he added "it was always the first place I'd go when I escaped." He offered them a ride, which they refused. I wasn't surprised: part of going on a pilgrimage was that you walked the entire way. But then, that was because Andraste walked. She certainly didn't walk to Haven, though, what with being _dead_. I didn't much feel like arguing about it since they were already eyeing our robes warily, so we wished them luck and continued on.

"I didn't even know the Chantry had made that a pilgrimage," I said to myself.

"Only in Ferelden," Hob interjected. "The Grand Cleric declared it one, not the Divine." He shrugged. "No surprise. They can barely admit Andraste was born in Ferelden, I bet the Divine was spitting nails to find out she was laid to rest here, too."

"True," I agreed. "But the ashes themselves, they're protected. You have to survive a series of trials to reach them. It wasn't easy for us when we went; I can't imagine most people would even live through them. Most were just… puzzles, or testing your knowledge on Andraste and her life. But some were more violent."

"You never did tell me what that was," Anders said.

"It was… bizarre," I told him. "We had to fight ourselves. Not _literally_, but the Gauntlet created spirit versions of each of us, and they knew everything we did, at least as far as fighting went. Just as strong as us, too. I never thought I'd have to see if I could beat myself in a fight. I can, for what it's worth. But the Gauntlet might not have anticipated me fighting dirty." He raised an eyebrow. "I chucked a vase at her and killed her while she was down. And then I knocked a statue over onto the fake Alistair so he could chop its head off." I chuckled, thinking back. "The Zevran clone was using a bow, though. None of us could figure that out."

"He can't use a bow?"

"Oh no, he's a fantastic archer. But he doesn't like to. Given a choice he prefers to use blades. Says killing from a distance makes it too easy for him to forget he's taking a life."

"Even with darkspawn?" Anders said, looking amused.

"Well, no one mourns for them. Then it's just for the sheer joy of killing."

He laughed at that. "The joy of killing… you know, five years ago I would have run as fast as I could from anyone who used that phrase."

"His words, not mine!"

"No, but you agree," Anders pointed out.

"With darkspawn? Of course. Killing them is great fun, and you can feel good after because you've wiped some of their filth off the face of the world."

"Oh, absolutely," Anders said. "Being a Warden has changed me," he said. "I even like using a sword now, of all things. I still can't believe that."

"And you're very good," I said. "I still can't believe you just picked one up for the first time three years ago."

"Oghren's actually an excellent teacher," Anders said. "Even drunk. Maybe _especially_ drunk." We both laughed at that. "But… there is something kind of _satisfying_ about lopping some hurlock's head off."

"See!" I said. "The joy of killing. And it's darkspawn, so that's all right. I don't like killing people, most of the time."

"Ser Rylock," Anders said with a smirk.

"Well, I did enjoy killing her. She deserved it. I still can't believe you had sex with her, though! A templar? Have you no standards?"

"Like you're one to talk," he said. "_Zevran_."

"What's wrong with Zevran?"

"He tried to kill you!"

"A lot of people have tried to kill me. And in his case it wasn't even personal, Loghain and Howe hired him!" I looked at him from the corner of my eye. "You're just jealous!"

"I am not!" Anders said. I stared at him for a moment and he laughed. "Well, all right, I am. Just a bit. Mostly because he's the only one of your former lovers I have to see on a regular basis."

There was a noise of surprise behind me. I'd forgotten about our guest. "Did you just say you're, um, _friends_ with _assassins_?"

"Sure," I said. "Zev faced the archdemon with me. He's an investigator for the Crown now. First elf elevated to the gentry, actually. Although Bann Shianni was made a noble before that."

"E— elf?" I don't think he could have looked more appalled if I'd said my former lover was a werewolf.

"We're here," Anders said before I could reply, stopping the wagon and looking at me with a smirk. We both hopped down and walked to the cliff edge automatically, raising our hands in identical obscene gestures directed towards the tower. "That will never get old," Anders said as we laughed. Hob followed us to the inn, muttering quietly to himself. I wasn't sure, but I suspected it was a commentary on our sanity, or what he saw as a lack thereof.

* * *

_**1000th review contest!**_  
_So it looks like this story may hit 1000 reviews in the next few chapters. (Seriously, how did that happen! You guys are too good to me. I honestly can't believe it!) _  
_And in honor of this I'm having a contest! I'll write a one shot of Maggie, Anders, and company on a prompt of the 1000th reviewer's choosing. (smut is fine... clearly, but I'd just request no non-con or dub-con)_

_And... there is new art! Remove the spaces for the link to work. I also linked to the thread on BSN for this series since everything is posted on there with links to the artist's profiles, and there's about half a dozen pictures I haven't posted here yet that aren't on deviantart. Remove the spaces in the URLs.__  
_**_http:/ galagraphia. deviantart. com/art /Commission -Anders- and-Maggie- 188414346_**  
**_http:/ payroo. deviantart. com /art /Thanks-for-20K- Hit-Kiriban -188393509_**  
_**http:/ social. bioware. com/ forum/ 1/topic/ 97/index/ 3006339**_


	88. This is close to what I had predicted

We ate breakfast in the common room the next morning, waiting for a brief rainstorm to stop before continuing on. The dogs were on the floor next to our table, enjoying several large beef bones the cook had given them.

"Are they mabari?" Hob asked as we ate.

I nodded. "Once we got funding from Weisshaupt I started a kennel." Well, that wasn't entirely true… "I hired someone to start it, really. I don't know anything about breeding dogs, just fighting with them."

"Never seen one up close," he said. "Heard about them, of course… a few of the nobles had them during the war, too." He looked down at the dogs. "Expensive, aren't they?"

I shrugged. "No idea, really. It was Warden money, not mine. We've got a woman from Weisshaupt who handles all that."

"You have your own accountant?" Hob asked.

Anders gave me a pointed glance and then laughed before I could say anything. "We're poor as chantry mice," he said to Hob. "The _Grey Wardens_ have an accountant. Us, though? If neither of us could handle managing our tiny salaries I'd wonder if we should even be allowed to handle pointy objects."

Hob glanced from Anders to me. "_You're_ poor?" he said after a moment. I shrugged and nodded. "_You_? The Commander of the Grey Wardens? You're telling me they don't give you a handsome salary?" He looked annoyed by this.

"Why would they?" I asked. "We live for free in Vigil's Keep, and we could do the same in Soldier's Peak if we wanted. Our meals are free and the order provides everyone with equipment and personal necessities. What would we need money for?" He still looked shocked. "Don't be mistaken," I said. "I hold a title, but I'm no noble. I'm just a soldier."

"It won't pass on to your children?"

"We don't have children," Anders said.

"But someday—"

"No," I said quickly.

"You're young," he began. "When you get older your mind will change."

"And I'll be just as unable then as I am now," I snapped. He looked shocked but I didn't elaborate, it wasn't his business. "And even if we had half a dozen it wouldn't matter. The banneron goes to the next commander. Ferelden law."

"As it should be," Anders said. "The order needs that money more than we ever could. Keeping that many people housed and fed isn't cheap."

"Speaking of," I said, glancing around. When I caught the innkeeper's eye he walked over. "I'd like another," I said, gesturing to my plate.

"Oh, me too," Anders said.

"Another of which?" he asked.

"Well, everything," Anders replied. I nodded. He gave us a surprised glance and disappeared with our empty plates. "Famished," Anders said. He looked over at the counter. "You think they have pie?"

"Oooh," I said. "Pie would be _fantastic_. Apple, especially."

"Cherry," Anders said as the plates were delivered

Hob looked on in shock as we ate our second breakfasts. "If I had any doubts this would end them," he said with a shake of his head. "You eat like your mother."

Anders laughed, almost spraying me with food. "Ha!" he said. "I knew it. Alistair was right: you just use the Grey Warden thing as an excuse!"

"You eat as much as me!" I said.

"Yeah, but I stop to _breathe_," he replied with a smirk. "Oh, don't make that face at me. You know I'm teasing. Being married to someone that's almost perfect is tiresome, I need to latch onto whatever flaws I can find."

"I'm _far_ from perfect."

Anders scoffed. "You are to me," he said, raising my hand to his lips and kissing it. I couldn't stop myself from grinning at him. After a moment Anders broke eye contact and snickered. "You are _such_ a sucker for that romantic stuff. And you tease Elissa? You're just as bad!"

"You always have to go and ruin it, though," I said. "You never see Alistair teasing her."

"Is it strange?" Hob asked after a moment. "I mean, knowing them. The king and queen, like they were just normal folk?"

"Not really," I said. "Alistair _was_ just a normal person when I met him. He was the junior member of the Wardens when I joined, all I knew about him then was that he had been raised by the Chantry and, not long after Ostagar, that he was a bastard. I didn't even know who his father was for months."

"I wish I was there to see your reaction," Anders mused.

"I could have _killed_ him," I said. "I mean, he's all 'It's not a big deal, I'm the same person I was an hour ago, it doesn't change anything,' while I'm screaming that half the reason we were being hunted like animals was because any heir of Calenhad was a threat to Loghain taking over the throne." I shook my head, thinking back. "It _didn't _change anything, not really. But I finally had all the information. Being in the dark stinks when you're trying to keep people alive."

We headed out not long after, with me taking the reigns so Anders could study the spellbook I'd given him. "What language is that?" Hob asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"Ancient Arcanum," Anders said. "Tevinter. Most books about magic are written in their language."

"I can't read any other languages," he replied, looking slightly impressed.

Anders smiled, as if sensing a chance to show off. "We're both fluent in the Tevinter language, ancient and modern. I'm also pretty good with Orlesian and Antivan. Maggie can't speak either of those, but she's been learning the Dwarva language."

"Why'd you want to learn their language?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused. I guess it made sense that most people wouldn't see the connection between dwarves and darkspawn.

"There are records dating back to the first blight about the darkspawn that have never been translated, and some of the ones that have read like they were composed of words picked from a hat. I'd like to examine them for myself as they were originally written. There could be something in there the Wardens don't know yet, or forgot in the years since. The only people who know as much about darkspawn as us are the dwarves."

"Huh," was all he said.

Right around when I started to think stopping for lunch would be a good idea Hob spoke up again. "Why'd you changed your name?" the man said, looking at me.

"Pardon?"

"Your name," he said. "Well, nickname. We used to call you Peggy."

Anders snickered at that. "Peggy? Oh no. No."

"I don't remember ever being called that," I said. "It's been Maggie for as long as I can remember."

"Oh," he said. "You probably don't remember much."

"Not much," I said, hoping he would drop the subject. I had decided to pretend I didn't know he thought I was a monster, it just made things easier. This line of questioning wasn't making that easy, though.

"You'll be coming on a fork in the road soon," he said. "Take the left branch." I did as he said, and before long we began passing small farmsteads clustered near the lake's edge. "It'll be up on the left soon," he said. "One story, the thatch on the roof is still green."

I could see the green-brown roof not too long after he spoke, Anders gesturing at the same time. I began pulling back on the reigns of the horses as he cut off the haste spell. Slowing down, I could see a few people standing outside. As we drew closer I saw they were both men, probably a few years younger than me. We were just about to stop the wagon when they began trading punches.

"Bloody fools at it again," Hob muttered more to himself than us.

"Oh look, honey," Anders said, barely containing his laughter. "Brawling in the street! You know, this is actually really close to what I had predicted."

"Is this, um, common?" I asked.

"Lately," Hob said. "Fighting over a girl."

Anders did start laughing then. "So violent jealousy _is_ hereditary. Good to know." Hob was jumping from the wagon as soon as it stopped, shouting at them to stop. I winced watching him knock one to the ground, grabbing the other young man by the collar. "Well then," Anders said.

"Anders," I glanced over at him, dropping my voice. "I've got a confession."

"Hm?"

"I don't think I like my father very much."

"I don't either," he said.

"Glad we're on the same page."

He nodded and stepped down from the wagon, I hopped down a moment later, followed by both dogs. Arms folded, we stood to the side watching the growing brawl. "This is just pathetic," Anders muttered after a moment. I was inclined to agree. Raising my hand, I released a brief surge of magic and all three men were frozen in place. "We didn't come here from the other side of Ferelden to watch a fistfight." He looked at the three men who had no choice but to stand still and listen. "And to be completely honest, I could see far better hand to hand combat at home."

As expected, the fight didn't continue once the spell wore off. Hob was speaking to the two young men, gesturing towards us every few moments. "I'm going to go in and talk to her," he said, turning to me. "Let her know you're here. I'll come back for you in a minute."

I nodded. "Nice of him to invite us in," Anders said quietly, rolling his eyes as he leaned back against the wagon.

"Uncle Hob's old fashioned," one of the men spoke up, walking towards us. He had red hair. "Funny about magic."

"You don't say," I replied, trying not to sound too sarcastic. A pale face had pulled back a curtain to stare out at us from the house. I could hear a door slam somewhere around the back of the small building. They stared at me openly, remaining silent. I looked over at Anders, he shrugged. "So…" I said, wanting to fill the silence. "We're related?"

"I guess," the other man said, this one had dark hair and eyes. "We're not rich or fancy like you."

"I'm not rich," I said. They both snorted at that. "Andraste's sword, why do all of you think I'm rich?"

"You live in a castle," dark-hair countered.

"I don't own it," I said. "I don't really own much of anything, it all belongs to the Grey Wardens."

"But you run the Grey Wardens."

"Doesn't make their property mine." He just shrugged. Did they _all_ think I was rich? Maybe Jowan and Anders were right. Maybe they were hoping I'd give them money. I didn't much like that idea. A girl about ten years younger than me in light armor ran over with another man behind her, he looked somewhere between my age and Anders'. They came to a brief stop and stared at us.

"Oh," was all he said at first. It was followed up by "I figured you'd be, you know, taller."

"Yeah, I've been getting that a lot lately."

She ignored me, walking to stand in front of Anders. "Hello," she said to him, grinning. "I'm not related to _you_, am I?" When she playfully put a hand on his chest I may have actually growled.

"Actually, you are," I said, grabbing her wrist and removing her hand, "by _marriage_."

"Oh," was all she said before making a squeaking sound. I dropped my grip on her wrist and she stepped back, rubbing it. "Andraste's tits, your hands are cold," she said, staring at me.

Before I could reply the man she arrived with stepped forward. "You fought the archdemon?"

"Yes," I said, not sure what he was getting at.

"_You_ fought the archdemon? And beat Teyrn Loghain? _You?_" he looked disdainful.

_Ah_. "If you're planning to do something as foolish as challenging me to a duel I'd strongly urge you to reconsider," I said, summoning enough flame to engulf my hands. He swallowed and nodded, stepping back.

"I… uh… right," he said, stepping back. "I guess looks can be deceiving." Really, did he expect size to correlate with the power of a mage? Some of the most powerful mages I'd ever known were elves who made even me look like a giant.

"…_talk about lucky, the things I could do to him_," I heard a feminine voice say as he went silent. "_You think mages can—" _ I turned to stare at her; she flushed, her jaw closing with an audible click. The man she had been speaking to was ignoring her, trading glares with his brother instead. A moment later they began shoving at each other.

"If I had any doubts they were really related to you," Anders whispered in my ear, "well, they'd all be gone now."

"What are you talking about? They're all _maniacs_," I whispered back.

"Exactly."

"You'll have to excuse my sister," the oldest man, who had apparently been contemplating trying his luck against me in a fight, said. "She's a whore."

"Bastard!" she said. "I am not. And you're no better! What, you can go to bed with all the ladies you want but I smile at one man and I'm a whore? That's hardly fair."

"Oh yeah, _definitely_ your family," Anders said, laughing.

"I'm inclined to agree with her," I said, choosing to ignore the escalating violence only feet away. "So long as the man you're smiling at isn't _my_ husband, of course."

"Sorry about that," she said to me after shooting her brother a triumphant glance. Glancing at Anders once more she added "well done, by the way."

"I think so," I agreed.

"Huh, I guess that book was right about her," the oldest man said, shaking his head.

The woman's eyes widened. "Was it? Did you really get with the king? What was it like?"

"Never slept with the king," I said, shaking my head.

She looked disappointed. "Well it had to be someone, I mean, two bloody years that blight went on. I know I'd be climbing the walls." Anders covered his mouth next to me, muffling a laugh. "Was it the elf? I would have been all over him. His pictures made him look dangerous. Dangerous is sexy." I think my jaw might have dropped open. "Ha! I was right," she sounded thrilled. "Good to see bad taste isn't _hereditary_." At her words the fighting stopped.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're fighting over a moon-faced imbecile," she said snidely. "The hair I pulled from my brush this morning has a quicker wit."

One raised a hand to strike her. I was about to step between them since really, each man outweighed her by a good fifty pounds at the least, and unlike me she couldn't summon a blizzard from thin air. A moment later he was on the ground, her shoe at his throat. "Too slow, little brother," she laughed. "Maybe someday."

"Maker's breath," Anders said. "It's like looking at a younger version of you without the magic. I don't know if I should be impressed or afraid."

"I feel like I should offer her a job," I agreed. "I didn't see her _move_. Rose isn't even that fast."

"Already over the whole flirting with me thing?"

I shrugged. "Can't really blame her for that. I'd do the same."

"You make that sound hypothetical. Last I knew you could barely keep your hands off me." He looked over and smirked at me.

"Maybe," I admitted. "Not like you're any better, though."

"Did I deny it?" Anders said, running a fingertip along my jaw.

I leaned back against the wagon with him, wishing I was anywhere but here. They seemed normal enough, but the entire situation was too bizarre for me. I didn't even know any of their names. Introducing myself felt funny since I was pretty sure they all knew who _I_ was.

"Maker, we're a bunch of asses," the woman said suddenly. "Did any of you stop brawling long enough to introduce yourselves?" All right, that was somewhat creepy. "I'm Catherine," she said. "This is Charles," she went on, pointing to the oldest of the group. "Cade and Connall, they're twins, not identical… well, that's obvious enough it probably goes without saying." these were the dark and red haired fighters, respectively.

I nodded politely and introduced Anders and myself. "Is that normal?" he whispered. "The letter thing?"

"No," Catherine said, overhearing him. "Our parents thought they were clever. Maker rest them and all that," she waved a hand indifferently. I tried not to let my surprise show on my face. Sure, she was younger than me, but if Hob was correct in saying they died during the blight she still would have been in the middle of her teenage years then. I would think their death would rate a little more respect. She made a face at me, probably because I was never very good at hiding my emotions. "Our da? He made _yours_ look like he's got the mercy of Hessarian."

The older man, Charles, shrugged. "Hob isn't _that_ bad—" he began.

"She's a mage," Catherine cut him off, casting a pointed glance at the staff on my back.

Charles winced slightly. "You have a point," he conceded. "That was probably… um, pretty ugly."

"Yeah," I said tersely.

"Welcome to the bloody family," Catherine said. "Is it all you've dreamed and more?"

"Your ma isn't bad, though," Connall said. "Deserves better than what she's getting now, that's for sure."

"Never could figure out how she ended up with Hob," his twin added.

"She was up the pole, that's how," Charles said with a snort.

"Really?" Catherine said, shocked.

"Ma said something about it once, years ago. Loghain was born three months after their wedding!" He froze and glanced over at me. "They… they told you about him, right?" I nodded. "Did you know him, in the mage tower?"

I shook my head. "I did," Anders said. "He was a decent guy."

"_Was_?"

Anders nodded, face grim.

"I see," Charles said. "I'm thinking that tower isn't the castle Hob used to say it was."

I couldn't help but make a nose of derision at that. "_Castle?_ You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope," Charles said. "Castle. Used to complain that you got to go live in some castle and meanwhile the rest of the family was scraping to make it through winter. Said it was the Imperium all over again."

"Let me put it this way," Anders said, clearly restraining himself from showing too much anger. "We survived. Most don't." He grimaced, pushing a few loose strands of hair back. I sighed. Really, this was getting better by the moment.

"You must have been thrilled to get out," Charles said.

"After I finished vomiting from all the light and air I was," I said. "I'd never been outside before."

"They used to let us out to exercise once a week," Ander said. "Once you got older. I think they stopped that when you were still too young to go."

"They did," I agreed.

"Sorry, that was my fault." I raised an eyebrow. "Made a run for it and managed to swim to the other side of the lake. They caught me a week later." I snickered at that. "I was bloody lucky," Anders said. "If it wasn't for Finn talking me up to everyone for being brave enough to try I think I would have been killed the moment they brought me back. He was just happy not to have to go out in the dirt and get sweaty anymore."

"I remember him," I said. "He's still around, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Anders said. "Last time he wrote me he asked if that rumor about you was true."

"Rumor?"

"The one from the men's apprentice bunk wall," Anders said.

"Wait… there was something about me written on the wall? That was _true_? I thought Uldred was just being an ass when he said that."

"You didn't know?" Anders snickered. "And when would _Uldred _have told you?"

"Just before I killed him."

"Ah, right. Well, it's all true. And _very_ complimentary."

"What did it say?"

He opened his mouth and then slammed it shut again. "Later," he said after smirking for a moment. "Trust me."

It was just as well, as Hob came out a moment later. "She was asleep," he announced. "I had to get her up." With that being said he stalked off towards the water, barely giving us another glance.

"Ass," Catherine muttered under her breath. "Come on, I'll show you in."

I nodded, mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Anders turned to me, ignoring everyone else. "Are you ready for this?"

"No," I said. "But… I don't see that changing any time soon."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I was tempted to say yes, but shook my head after a moment. "Not now. I should probably do this alone. But I would like you to take a look after, see if there's anything that can be done the healer they saw missed."

"Already planned on it," Anders assured me.

I let Catherine lead me inside. She opened the door and lit a candle. Once my eyes adjusted to the light I gasped, stepping back. "I take it he didn't warn you about that?"

I shook my head, too surprised to think of a proper response. Above the fireplace was an enormous painting, at least five feet tall. That in itself wasn't as disturbing as the subject matter. It was a painting of _me_.

"Yeah… he should have said something. Sorry." I nodded mutely. "And, um, sorry for flirting with your husband. No hard feelings?"

"No," I said. "But if you do it again I might kill you."

"Gotya," she said, nodding before going on about how good looking he was. "And, um, I should probably just stop talking now," Catherine said after a moment, glancing down to where I was slowly clenching and unclenching my fists.

"I'd _highly _recommend it."

She nodded. "Through here. I'm going to get dinner started. Are you staying?" I looked at her blankly. "It's too late to travel tonight, unless you want to spend half the journey fighting bandits. I'll add a couple more plates. Charles can put you up at his place. He's just up the road."

I mumbled a thanks and walked towards the door she indicated. Pushing it open I tried not to jump back as the smell of sickness hit me. No… it wasn't the smell of sickness, it was the smell of _death. _"Um, hello?" Walking forward into the darker room I glanced around, trying to see. Someone had drawn the curtains closed. I could make out a large shape: that would probably be the bed.

"There's a candle on the shelf to your left," came a weak response. Glancing over I saw the dim outline and grabbed it, lighting the wick with a gesture from my hand. I forced myself to look up. Apparently Hob was right; I did look just like her.

* * *

_At last my finals are over... which means that I am finally a college graduate! (well, I will be as soon as they mail me the degree)_

_New art! (well, new if you don't read Blue Skies). Take out the spaces for the URLs to work._  
**http:/ cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ gallery/#/ d34aidf**  
**http:/ cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ gallery/#/ d34dt0a**  
**http:/ cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ gallery/#/ d34dt5u** _(mildly NSFW for bare maggie butt)  
And I made a little holiday card of sorts. Since the joke came to me when filling a prompt about Zevran and mistletoe. So I had to.  
_**http:/ lupusyondergirl. deviantart. com/ #/ d35b59a**

_Thanks as always to all my reviewers! Happy holidays!  
_


	89. an unusual form of hereditary madness

I stood motionless, staring and frozen to the floor. In the dim light I could just make out a woman in the bed who was as close to being my exact double as anyone twice my age could be. Well, twice my age and weight, to be more specific.

"Come closer, please," she said in that same strained, exhausted voice. I nodded and somehow forced my legs to work, shuffling across the floor to a chair not far from the bed. I suspected that was where whoever was keeping vigil over her was expected to sit. Now that I was closer the differences were more apparent. There were differences that, I was sure, related to whatever she was sick with. Her skin was waxy and her face rounder than mine, but in a way that suggested it was also swollen, not simply heavier. Beyond that, I could see her eyes were blue-grey, not green. Her nose was small and upturned, not sharply pointed. My chin was more narrow and forehead higher, her hairline was more rounded while mine was peaked. Her hair, of course, was mostly grey, but there were still a few stands of what might have been black streaked through.

It was probably rude of me to stand silently and gape at her, but I had no idea what to say.

"You, um, you can sit down," she said after a moment. "If you want." I nodded and dropped into a chair without the slightest semblance of grace.

Alice tried to sit up but grunted with pain and fell back to the pillow before she got very far. Glancing at me she offered a resigned frown. "It's funny how little I can do now." I managed to shake the fog from my mind, jumping up and helping her into a sitting position. "Sorry," she said after a moment, winding bony fingers through a lock of grey hair and pushing it back behind her ear. Turning her head slightly, she stared at me. I didn't complain or look away. After all, I'd done the same to her. "I feel like a fool," she said finally. "I've been dreaming of talking to you for years, and now I don't know what to say." That made her laugh, until it triggered a painful sounding coughing fit.

"Take your time," I managed to say.

She actually gave me a crooked grin at that. "_Time_ is something I don't have."

"Sorry," I said quickly, realizing how cruel my words might have seemed. I couldn't even tell why she was still alive even now, she smelled like something long since dead. Embarrassed, I pushed my hair from my face and looked at my knees. "My husband is a healer, he might be able to—"

"Buy me another week? Two?" she gave me a cynical grin, eyebrow arched. For some reason it was easier to accept that she was my mother than it was to accept I was even remotely related to Hob, which I only seemed to be able to grasp on the most intellectual and emotionless of levels even now. Probably because the resemblance between she and I was so obvious. "Your husband? That was the blonde man I saw you with in Amaranthine?" I nodded. "He's a good man? Treats you well?"

"He is," I said. "He does."

"You love him?"

"Of course," I said. "Married him, didn't I?"

She shrugged slightly. "I don't know how things work with people like you."

"Mages usually don't get married at all; the Chantry doesn't like the idea of us having children."

"Not mages. _Nobles._ I know full well how mages live, it _is_ hereditary you know."

"I'm barely a noble," I said. "And my title isn't inherited so no one would want to arrange a marriage with me—" I froze, staring at her. "What was that last part?"

"Magic is hereditary," she said quietly.

I looked at her more closely. "You're not…"

"My father," she whispered. "He was already dead when I met Hob. Templars. I never thought it was worth mentioning. Until…"

"Until my brother was one," I said. She nodded, wiping her eyes.

"I had no idea Hob would react like he did. You were just a babe in arms at the time. Not even two months old. When Loghain showed signs I told him we could hide him, keep him with us. My sister Peggy— we named you after her— she's an apostate. She would have helped. He was furious." She blinked back more tears. "He took him to the Chantry and left him there. He told me we were being punished because of my family's sin. Since we hid mages our son became one. He…" she trailed off, looking outside. "He said I should be glad he wasn't running my sister in to them…" She wrung her hands. "I knew the templars would kill her, she was over twenty years old and had never set foot in the Circle. I thought… I don't know… I thought this way at least no one had to die, so I didn't fight him. He doesn't understand. He's a very religious man."

"A religious man who beats children?" I raised an eyebrow. She blushed. "The Knight Commander told me about that. He told me because he was horrified. The _Knight Commander_ was _horrified_ by his treatment of a mage. Greagoir's a decent man, but even so that's… um… that's really not a normal state of affairs." She sighed. "I remembered it anyways, though. Not as bad as it apparently was, but I remembered some of it."

"He truly never forgave himself for that," she said quietly. "I never really forgave him, either. That was why he was willing to move here. He thought… I don't know… he thought it would make me happy again. It would make up for that. And that if I was close to my babies maybe it would make things right somehow. Even if you didn't know I was here." She sighed. "It wasn't _you_ he was attacking, not to him. It was the magic itself. He was so mad. He loved you. You and your brother. To him, magic took his children away." She looked at me. "Does it matter much at this point? No changing the past."

"True," I said. "But he hasn't made much secret of his feelings about mages," I said. "He's been civil, but it's pretty obvious he found me to make you happy, not because he had any interest in seeing me himself."

"And you?"

"You never did anything bad to me. At least, not that I can remember."

"Can you remember much? About me, I mean?"

"Not really," I said. "I remember sitting on a counter. You gave me a cookie while I watched you cook. I remember you crying when I cast my first spell, and when they took me away. I remember thinking you were tall." Shrugging, I bit my nail. "You used to smell like apples."

"And now I smell like an open grave," she sighed. Alice did smile a bit then. "I don't think anyone but a child would ever call me tall."

"So that's where I get it from. I have elves under my command that are taller than me. Well… two of them are."

She laughed until coughing again. "Under your command," she finally managed to get out. "When you were fistfighting with the boy next door I never would have expected that to turn into a career as a great military leader. Although maybe I should have- you did always win." She went silent for a moment. "When you showed signs I had to beg him not to turn my sister in. He was so sure that was the reason you were a mage: the Maker was punishing us for helping to keep her secret and naming you after her. I was going to leave. I couldn't stand the thought of the Chantry stealing another of my babies. Take you and go hide, we could have moved somewhere into the woods, somewhere secret." I waited for her to go on. Her voice cracked. "I was scared," she finally said. "I didn't think I could do it alone, and I didn't want to call more attention to Peggy. I… I can't really read, I can't run a farm alone, I don't have any skills. How would I manage? We'd both starve to death, or freeze in the first winter." She bit her lip, tears on her cheeks. "I even thought about going to the city, figured I wasn't bad looking, maybe I could get a job there as a—" she made a face, unable to complete the sentence. I got her point, though. "It's ugly work, but I would have gone on my knees for every man in Denerim it to keep you. But how could I have kept you hidden in a big city like that? My da and sister were mages, but I'm not. I don't know how to train a mage, I don't know how to keep you hidden and safe."

"It isn't your fault," I said. Mostly because she was dying and it was what she wanted to hear, but really, listening to her I could see that it wasn't. What _could_ one illiterate woman do to keep a mage safe on her own?

She snorted. "Not a day passes when I don't wonder what I could've done different."

"Nothing," I said finally. "Anders, that's my husband, his mother hid him. Hid him until he was twelve or so." The guilt in her expression deepened. "No—" I said, "I'm not saying that to say you should have. I mean, she _tried_ to do what you wanted and, well, it didn't work. Your father could hide your sister since he could train her himself. We… we do need training. _Badly_. Horrible things can happen around an untrained mage. Redcliffe was almost destroyed because the Arlessa hid her son and he became possessed. Not just that, though. Magic, well… it's like sweat, or a facial expression. Sometimes it just… slips out. If you're angry, scared, or under threat you'll cast a spell without even wanting to. Training can teach you not to, but even with training if you're tired or distracted it can still happen. We have to pay attention every moment of the day to keep it in check." I figured Anders wouldn't mind me sharing this. "He never knew his father. It may have been a mage, but his mother raised him alone. It wasn't easy for her, I'm sure. Especially since she was an elf. I know even the other elves would have looked down on her for having a human's child, so she didn't even have her family to help. When a boy said something horrible to him in the street about her he hit him with lightning, without even realizing it. I would have done something like that eventually. Probably something much worse, really, since he's mostly a healer, and I'm mostly a battle mage. My natural affinity is all for the most deadly spells known. I could have killed someone… probably more than one person."

"With one spell?"

"Without even trying," I confirmed. "I launched a fireball at a group of bandits that surprised me once, back during the blight when I let myself get distracted on watch. I hadn't even realized what I was doing, I just acted. Killed half a dozen instantly. And nearly burnt our camp to the ground in the process."

She sighed. "Thank you," Alice managed after a moment. "I… I do appreciate that. I don't know, maybe I should have just taken you to Peggy. She had a life, but I know she would have helped me. I just worried more mages together would be more of a risk."

"Templars can sense when someone's a mage. It would have been." She sighed but didn't say anything more. I couldn't hold myself back any more, I had to ask. "Is your sister still—"

"No," she said. "Not the templars, though. Her village was attacked by the darkspawn during the blight. Everyone went into the Chantry, she stayed outside with the militia to help protect them. She'd been their healer for years, so most suspected she was a mage already. It…" her face clouded. "It wouldn't have mattered by then anyways. The darkspawn killed her. One of the men wrote me, Hob read me the letter. Said they never breeched the Chantry doors. Called her a hero."

I sighed, leaning back into the chair and pushing my hair from my face. "I don't blame you," I said finally. "The system is wrong, but you had no choice."

"It is wrong," she agreed. "But that'll change. Everything changes." She looked at me. "The whole world knows what you did during the blight, and that you had two more mages with you. Peggy helped her neighbors and she was just the village healer. I'd bet most apostates did the same. Went out of their way, risked exposure to save others. People know now." I thought about that, she was probably right. Even Jowan, who had even more reason to hide than most apostates and hadn't exactly been known for his bravery at the time, walked the length of Ferelden many times over guiding refugees North ahead of the darkspawn horde and using his magic to protect them. If people had a personal connection to a mage like that, someone who helped them specifically during the blight… well, that would certainly account for changing attitudes a lot more than any distant pedestaled hero like what they'd made out of me.

"It's already changing," I said.

"I wish it had happened soon enough for me to see it," she mused. "I don't know. I feel like I should say something about how I've had a good life, and I'm at peace and ready to go to the Maker." Her tone of voice left no question as to what she thought about that statement. "But… I haven't, I'm not, and I really couldn't give a toss about the Maker one way or the bother, if He even exists. He's never done right by me before, don't see why he'd start now."

I didn't really know what to say about that, so I didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to see you just to complain."

"It's all right."

"No," she said. "I have no right complaining about my life to you. And it wasn't all bad. I had a good marriage, at least."

I wasn't able to stop myself from making a sound of disbelief.

"He's not a bad man. He's _not." _She sounded adamant, like she expected to convince me. "We never agreed about magic, and the law is on his side. But he's always been good to me otherwise." She closed her eyes. "No accounting for love, anyways. Not like you can control who you end up falling for. He moved here so I could be closer to you, he took me to Amaranthine so I could see you up close… he went to find you now." She sighed. "He's not a bad man. Hob can't help that he was raised to believe all the Chantry teaches. I know it killed him to see me looking at that tower and crying. I tried not to, but… it looks so damned awful. So harsh. Was it horrible?"

"I got out eventually," I said.

"I see you've inherited your father's tact," she said drily. "Just as well, though. I always preferred harsh truth to soft lies."

"Sorry," I muttered. "It, um, wasn't that bad. Just… don't ask Anders about it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Very convincing. At least I know you turned out honest." She coughed a few times. "Just… before I die, I wanted you to know I didn't want to give you up. I would have hid you, fought them… it's just…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I should have fought harder."

"There was nothing you could have done," I repeated. She nodded but had another fit of coughing before she could say anything else.

Catherine poked her head in. I hadn't even heard her in the house anymore. "Once she starts coughing like that it's usually not long before she falls asleep for the night."

"Can you get Anders?" I asked her. She gave me a blank look. "My husband."

"Ohh, right," she said. "Sure thing. I'll even keep my hands to myself," she said with a smirk.

"Good, then you can keep your hands," I replied, matching her expression. She chuckled and went outside. Returning a moment later, Anders immediately walked to my side, resting his hand on my shoulder.

"Uncanny," he muttered to himself looking at the now sleeping woman in the bed.

"Isn't it?" Catherine agreed.

"Is there anything that can be done?" I asked him.

He walked around to the other side of the bed. "Can I get some light?" I stood and unshouldered my staff, holding it up and illuminating the room with its glow. Catherine gasped in surprise; she had yet to see either of us cast a spell. Perhaps she'd never seen anyone cast a spell before at all. It had to be strange looking. "Perfect," Anders said. He ran his hands over her, blue light fading to white and then back to blue again. Taking a closer look at her now-sleeping face, he stood up straighter and gave me a significant glance, inclining his head to the door. I followed him out.

"Well?"

He shook his head. "Maybe something could have been done a year or two ago… but…"

"What is it?" Catherine asked. "The healer at the Chantry said it was a lot of things all happening at once."

"Well, it is, technically," he said. "She's got the sugar disease. At one time that could have been treated, but because it wasn't it caused other problems. Her kidneys are already dead inside her. Her heart isn't working properly anymore. The coughing is because it's pumping a tiny bit of blood into her lungs with each beat."

"There's nothing anyone can do?" Catherine asked.

"I can make her more comfortable, but that's about it. I frankly don't see how she's still alive now, to be honest, but people can sometimes hold on if they're waiting for something specific. She may have just been waiting for Hob to get home."

"Probably," Catherine said. "She sleeps most of the time now, when she woke up before it was just to ask where he was. This is the most she's said to anyone in ages."

She did sleep the rest of that night, and most of the following day. Anders had told me she didn't have long, so it seemed like we could stick it out. He rode up to Redcliffe to see if anything had been sent for us and to send an update to the Keep, but I stayed behind. Catherine had taken it upon herself to teach me how to cook.

"It's a lost cause," I insisted.

"If you can make a potion you can make a soup," she said.

I shrugged and did what she said, chopping vegetables. When we began adding them to the pot I tapped her on the shoulder. "_That_ is something I'm sure I can do," I said, pointing at the wood in the stove. She stood aside, replacing the tinderbox on the shelf, while I lit the fire.

"That has to be handy," she observed.

"Usually I'm using it to far more destructive ends."

She paused after wrestling the large pot on the stove. "What's it like?"

I hated that question. How could I explain what it was like being a mage when I had no idea what it was like not being one? "Hard to say," I told her. "It's all I've ever known."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Not being a _mage_. I might as well ask what it's like to have black hair at that point if I want to waste time with stupid questions that have no answers. I mean being a Grey Warden."

"Oh, that," I said. "I like it, but it isn't for everyone."

"I can imagine," she said. "It seems exciting."

"It can be," I said. "Not easy, though."

"I just get so damned _bored_ here," she said.

"There's a whole lot to do between 'cooking for your brothers' and 'Grey Wardens,'" I said. "We give up a lot to be what we are. We're not the same as normal people anymore, we're changed. It has some serious consequences."

"Like?"

"Like I can't tell you unless you want to become one of us and once I do there's no going back."

"Ouch."

"Yep," I said. "I don't mind. We fight the greatest evil in the world. It's a good cause." I paused. "You're fast and you're quiet. If you're even passable with a blade I'd find a place for you, no question, since weapon skills can always be learned. But it may be a bit too exciting for you. There's a lot to do out there, though."

"Not much for someone like me," she said. "Everyone wants a warrior for their guards, someone who can use a greatsword or a shield. I can't use either. I like daggers."

"You good with dogs? You could be an ash warrior," I said.

"Tried that," she said. "I don't know, I'm better with sneaking around."

I had an idea. "Ever think about being a spy? Like a bard?"

"A _bard_?" She raised an eyebrow. "A traitor to Ferelden? Absolutely not!"

"Ferelden uses spies, too, you know."

"We do!" her eyes went wide. "No!" Catherine paused. "Really?" I nodded. "Well, you would know better than me," she admitted. "Wow. Never would have guessed that."

"If you're interested I could get you in touch with the right people."

"Now that's a thought…" she looked intrigued.

"You want to be a Warden, I promise I'll find you a place," I said. "We can train you on weapons, but speed like yours can't be taught. But if that sounds better write to me and I'll set it up for you. The Crown's top spy and assassin are both friends. Good people, they do a lot to protect Ferelden. Fought with me in the blight." She nodded, grinning widely.

Alice would wake for an hour or two each day, looking progressively worse. Depending on who was already there, she would ask for her husband, one of my cousins, or me. Anders did his best to keep her comfortable.

Hob avoided both Anders and I like we had a plague ever since we returned. If she asked for me, he left the room. If she asked for him he would claim it was too crowded until I left. It wasn't until the sixth day that we were in the same room once again. I had been sitting with her, Anders and Catherine with me, when she asked for him and the rest of my cousins. He gave Catherine the excuse about it being crowded but Anders stopped him midway through.

"You really want to play this game when she has hours left?"

Hob's mouth snapped closed. "Are you sure?" he said after a moment.

"As much as anyone could be," Anders replied. "These things aren't exact."

He nodded and entered the room, wiping one of his eyes as he sat next to her, opposite from me. She didn't say much for the rest of the day, and when she did it didn't make much sense. She spoke to Anders briefly, calling him Darlan, she called Catherine Peggy. I must have looked surprised about why she thought my husband was the king who died fighting to stop the invading Orlesins until Catherine leaned towards me and whispered "her brother."

Finally she whispered with Hob. He had his head on her pillow, close enough that their foreheads touched, and brushed her hair back from her face as they spoke quietly. We all tried to stay back, not wanting to eavesdrop.

He called Anders' name. I looked over, Alice had become very still. "I think… she might be…" he stood up, hand over his mouth. Anders stepped forward, putting his fingers against her throat for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping away from her.

Hob nodded, covering his face with both hands. "Can… can you all leave me alone for a bit?"

We silently filed out into the next room. Catherine closed the door quietly, but even with it shut we could still hear him crying. Catherine sighed and retrieved a box from a sideboard, unlocking it with a key on her wrist. A small pile of coins sat inside. "I don't think this is enough," she sighed.

Anders looked over at her. "For?"

"The funeral," she said. "Mother Hannah said it would be fifty if we wanted her to have a private pyre. I guess they have to pay the men who collect the wood and put it up, and I'm sure the Chantry takes their cut." She looked disgusted.

Without a word Anders stood up and walked over, reaching into his pocket as he moved. Dropping a few coins into the box, he turned around and returned to sit next to me. "I only had six ten sovereign pieces on me," he whispered. "A decent funeral will be at least a hundred."

I reached into my own pocket, leaning forward and dropping a handful of coins into the box. "That should be enough," I said.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I hate to think of her on the pauper pyre." I nodded, agreeing with her. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt. Knowing she didn't _want_ me to be taken away was surprising, and something of a comfort. Not as surprising as finding out I apparently came from a family of apostates, but since they were all dead there wasn't much I could do with regards to that revelation. And not much of a comfort since really, she waited until a week before she died to tell me. "I won't tell Hob where the money came from," she added a moment later, almost as an afterthought.

"Good idea," Charles spoke up. "You know he'd be itching for more."

She nodded. "He was thinking since you're a noble you'd start supporting the lot of us. I'm guessing you aren't half as rich as he thinks, though."

I nodded. "Most nobles own their property, I don't. I don't really own anything but my clothes, books and gear. I couldn't afford to support someone if I wanted to."

"Not surprised," she said.

We stayed for the funeral. It was, thanks to Anders and I, a very nice service. "How do you feel?" Anders asked me as we laid in bed in the small attic room of my cousin Charles' house.

"I don't know," I said. "So, um, I guess I feel conflicted?" He chuckled. "I suppose I'd feel more if I knew her more. One week isn't really enough to start thinking of her as my mother, you know?"

"True," he agreed. "It was good we came, though. Your cousins seem, um… interesting."

"Interesting?"

"They're all insane, Mags. Completely bloody mad."

"They seem perfectly fine to me."

"Well of course they do. It's clearly a very unusual form of hereditary madness that you also share in." He smirked at me, pulling me closer to him when I made a face. "Oh, calm down. I'm teasing. They seem perfectly fine, especially if you're fond of extremely loud people who brawl if you look at them wrong and proposition anything that moves." He paused. "Like you."

"I do not proposition anything that moves!" I said. Anders raised an eyebrow. "Well, not _anymore_. Why would I? No one else would be as good as you. And I certainly wouldn't love them. Although this is one of those times I wonder why it is I love _you_."

"Cruel, cruel woman," Anders said, running a hand through my hair. "Don't mind me, I'm trying to cheer you up. I know this hasn't been easy for you."

"I'll be fine," I said. "But thanks." He kissed me and settled back into the bed. Anders was soon asleep. Feeling restless, I got up and slipped back into a set of robes, ducking out of the house. I don't know what I planned to do, beyond sitting at the edge of the water. I think I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts, perhaps get a nice bit of self pity worked up. I hadn't expected Hob to find me not long after I sat down.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"Interrupt what? I'm just sitting here," I said.

"What happened to you?" he said after a moment of silence.

"A lot of things have happened to me," I said. "You'll have to narrow it down."

"You're not right," was all he said. I looked over, raising an eyebrow. "You look so much like your mother when you do that," he sighed. "But no, you aren't right. You may be a big fancy hero, but I would have raised you better than that Circle did. You've got a foul mouth. You take the Maker's name in vain."

"I'm hardly the only one who does that," I countered.

He snorted. "That's the least of it. You've got blasphemous ideas. You're not moral. You took an elf to your bed like you're no better than some common whore, you married a… a _half breed_. And from what I see you're not even a proper wife for someone like that. It's not right. I would have raised you properly. Way I see it, you're no better than that fool Catherine." I shook my head, looking at the water. "Nothing to say for yourself?"

I did laugh then. "Just thinking… I'm pretty lucky you _didn't_ have a hand in raising me. And considering how much I've fought so people didn't have to give up their children, those aren't easy words to say." He didn't reply. "I don't appreciate being called a whore, though." He snorted, obviously not caring what I thought. I laughed. "Whores _charge_. I have no illusions about how normal people might see me, but I know what I am."

He snorted. "Figures you'd say something like that. You were always wild, even as a girl. The would have needed a firm hand to keep you in line, and it seems like them mages couldn't be bothered." He sighed. "You seem to get everything you want out of life, just handed to you. You twist people around until they believe what you want them to. You don't know what it's like to suffer, like us normal people do."

Rolling my eyes, I looked over at him. "You're _completely_ right," I said. "I've never starved. I've never been a wanted fugitive. I've never been run through by a darkspawn sword. I've never been picked up and thrown by an ogre. I've never been clawed by an archdemon or bit by a werewolf. I've never been held prisoner and tortured for weeks on end by templars, and I've certainly never been raped by one while they made my husband _watch_. My life is _perfect_. Completely perfect. I'm sure I'll live to be a cheerful old lady and die in my own comfortable bed, and I absolutely won't die young in battle against darkspawn. Nope, not at all." Making a face I added "you know, you're really an asshole."

He was silent for a long time. Finally Hob spoke up again. "I guess your life hasn't been as easy as I thought," he said. "But Maker forgive me, since I know you're my blood, I still can't say I much like you even knowing all that."

"Well, it's quite mutual," I said. "You're an ignorant bigot and a racist. You're violent, but only when you know it's against someone weaker than you are. From all I could see my mother deserved better. You put the Orlesian chantry above your blood kin, that's not right." Maybe I was being a little manipulative.

"Even Loghain Mac Tir believed in the Chantry." His voice was stubborn. I glared at him, furious.

"Loghain Mac Tir and I lived and fought side by side for months. He saw no difference between the men and women in our group, or between the elves, humans, dwarves, _and mages_. He liked or disliked people based on _who _they were, not _what _they were. His final words were to call _me:_ a foul mouthed, blaspheming mage that made no secret about sharing her bed nightly with an Antivan elf, his _friend_. Don't you _dare_ assign beliefs to the man when you're speaking to someone who actually _knew_ him. His memory deserves better than being used by others to justify their own prejudice." Disgusted, I stood up. "You and me? We're done. We're _nothing. _As far as I'm concerned I've got a handful of cousins and nothing more. My only parent was sent to the Maker this morning, and I'll be gone after sunrise." Turning, I stormed back inside.

The next morning my cousins came out to say goodbye. Catherine promised to write when she decided what she wanted to do with her future, and we all made a vague promise from all of us that we would gather at some undetermined point in the future.

As our wagon rolled off towards home I thought I saw Hob watching through the window.

* * *

_Finally home! Since the storm knocked internet mostl__y out where I was, and the airport's wifi was so congested my cell phone was faster, I'll be catching up on replying to people today. I wanted to add a HUGE note of thanks to all my readers. This year was the first time I'd done any creative writing since high school and I'm constantly astonished by the response I've gotten. The Dragon Age community is full of so many fantastic, supportive, creative, brilliant people. I consider myself lucky to have found it. Thank you to everyone who's been following me all these months! I hope you all have a very happy New Year! _


	90. I was trying to be gentlemanly

"What did you talk about?" Anders asked me.

We were curled up under the threadbare blankets of a shoddy inn at the intersection of the Lake Road and the North Road, headed home. I rolled to my side and sighed. For days I had been avoiding talking about it.

"You don't have to tell me," he said after a moment, voice low. "I just thought you might want to talk." While I was sure that was true, I also knew he was burning with curiosity.

"Her father was a mage," I said quietly. "And her sister." He all but sat up in bed, Anders was so startled. "Both dead."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Me too. I guess he died when she was very young- templars. Her sister was much older, she was a teenager by then. She died during the blight, helping to defend her village against the darkspawn." Anders was running his hand along my arm, an expression of concern on his face as I poured out the rest of our conversation from just after we'd arrived and the brief talks she and I had in the following days. "She couldn't read," I told him. "That's why she never tried to write me after the blight. Her father died before she'd really learned, and by the time she was grown she'd forgotten it all."

"Her mother?"

I shrugged. "I got the impression her mother never knew, either. I don't know, maybe that's one of those things that's harder to learn if you don't pick it up as a kid."

"Could be," Anders said. "I did teach some of the basic reading classes for the youngest apprentices in the tower, they seemed to catch on quicker than the Wardens I've helped." He sighed. "It's not as common as you'd think- reading. I learned at Chantry, so did my mother, but people outside the cities where the Chantries might be too far to send the kids every morning have to teach them themselves. And if they never learned…"

"Hob even tried to teach her, and Catherine. She said she just couldn't pick it up."

"How do you feel?"

I bit my lip, embarrassed by the answer. Anders stared at me, knowing I was dodging the question. "Angry," I admitted after a moment.

"Angry? Why?"

"It'll sound selfish."

"No it won't, tell me."

"Five years," I said, sitting up with the blankets wrapped around me. "Five damned years since the blight ended. Since they knew who I was and where I could be found. And she waited until now. We could have…" I trailed off, not sure what I hoped. "Well, it doesn't much matter what we could have done. She's dead now."

"Are you upset we went?"

"No," I said after a moment. "I mean, if I'd never known it might have been better. But if I'd told Hob to go screw himself and stayed home I'd spend the rest of my life wondering. I guess I'd hoped that—"

"That I'd be able to heal her?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

He sighed, sitting up and putting his arms around me. "I'm sorry," Anders said quietly. "I wish I could have; I hoped the same thing. When Hob said she was dying my first thought was that I could do a better job than some random mage working out of the Redcliffe Chantry. Her path was set long before, though. She's probably been slowly dying for a couple years now, at least. Maybe longer."

"I know," I sighed. "Even I could tell she was a real mess. It's just…" I leaned forward, shoving my hair back. "She said she didn't want to give me up. She said she never stopped thinking about me. So why did she wait until now? Why didn't she tell me years ago? Or even just _months_? It's like… I don't know," I struggled to find the words. "It's like she wanted to die knowing she'd told me that, but didn't want to actually _know_ me. I'm a grown woman, it's not as if I'd be demanding bedtime stories or anything. But is wanting even a month or two to get to know my mother too much to ask?"

"No, it's not," Anders said. "Maybe Hob stopped her. Maybe she was worried you'd reject her. Who knows? You ask me, she lost out on much more than you did." When I wasn't able to hold back the tears I'd been fighting off for days any longer Anders tightened his grip on me, running one hand across my hair.

"Mags?" he said quietly when I stopped sniffling.

"Yeah?"

"This may be a bad time, but I have to ask you something."

"What?" I said, shifting so I could see him.

"We don't have to invite your father to dinner on Andraste Day, do we?"

He gave me a crooked grin. I started to giggle and, after a moment, laugh loud enough that the person in the next room banged on the wall. "No," I finally managed. "I think Hob is on his own for the holidays." I shook my head. "You know what he said? He told me I was no better than a common whore! And then he called you…" I made a face. "I'm not even repeating it. So forget him. He's nothing to me."

"He called you _what_?" Anders said, sitting up straight.

"Calm down," I sighed. "You'd be proud; my response left his jaw in the dirt." Anders raised an eyebrow. "I pointed out that whores demand money."

Anders snickered before elbowing me. "You're a bad, bad woman. And really, I don't much care if some ignorant old man called me a half-breed or whatever charming term he might have used. He wasn't the first, and I doubt he'll be the last." I guess it would be the obvious easy insult for Hob to use. It was just one of those terms I felt wrong even speaking out loud. The words just seemed so dirty. "I think it's jealousy. I'm as tall as any human… really, taller than most. But I'd like to think the elven blood is what makes me so much better looking than most of them. I mean, really, your cousin couldn't take her eyes off me and I'm almost old enough to be her father!"

"Almost?" I said, laughing as he preened. "She's not even twenty. You _are_ old enough to be her father. Your trail of conquests began at least a year before she was born."

"Not even twenty?" he said, wincing. I nodded. "Um, at least a year, then. Ouch." Anders shook his head. "And thank you so much, I feel like I need a cane now!"

"Well, you are starting to go a little grey," I said.

His eyes narrowed. "I am not!" Coloring slightly he added "I've been checking."

"Really?" I said, eyebrows raised. "You haven't noticed at all?"

"No, I haven't," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"So when you started growing a beard, went on and on about how good you were going to look with said beard, and shaved it off days later… that had nothing to do with a good chunk of that beard being white as snow?"

"I hate you."

"You do not, you adore me. And I _liked_ the beard."

"You did?"

"Sure," I said. "It did look fantastic on you. Very… _distinguished._"

Anders spun to glare at me. "Why did I marry you?"

"Last week you claimed it was because of that thing I do with my tongue," I said, smirking.

"Did I?" he said, pulling me towards him again. "Could be. It is part of your legend, after all."

"Huh?"

Anders chuckled and I almost winced knowing something sure to embarrass me was on its way. "I never did tell you, did I… the men's dorm graffiti in the tower. I always wondered who Maggie was, and how I'd managed to live in that tower and not find her."

"You're making this up," I said.

"Now what kind of man would _invent_ a story about dorm room graffiti attesting to some of his wife's more colorful abilities?"

"You?"

"Probably," he laughed. "But I assure you, it did indeed proclaim your ability to, um, remove the enchantment a staff in a most unique fashion. With several comments of agreement added to the bottom. For years I wondered who that no doubt remarkable woman was. Especially when they had one of the tranquil paint over it and someone rewrote it a week later."

"What are you talking about? I'm horrid at removing enchantments."

He sighed. "The exact wording was '_Maggie could suck the enchantment off a staff.' _I was trying to be gentlemanly."

I stared up at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. "I can't say I've ever tried to do that," I eventually managed, still snickering. I probably would have been embarrassed if Anders wasn't so clearly amused by the whole thing. "Well, not literally, at least. Wonder who wrote it."

"No idea who wrote it," he said. "I think you'd be rather successful if you tried, though," Anders added with a laugh.

"Should I do that instead next time?" I said, laughing.

"No, no," he said. "I don't think that's at all necessary. I'm rather fond of your current technique."

* * *

We made good time getting home, despite several troubles along the way. Anders and I were attacked by darkspawn twice, which was no surprise. They were drawn to Wardens, sometimes from a great distance. A normal person on the same road would probably have been fine. I couldn't really complain about that, though. Fighting them was our job, and it was better for us to be attacked than someone who might not be able to fight them, or wouldn't be immune to their corruption.

At another questionable inn near the border of Highever and Amaranthine we woke to barking and screaming in the middle of the night. Anders jumped out of bed before I could. "Idiot!" he shouted, in the light from the fireplace I could see him hauling someone from the floor of our room to his feet. Not far away was a small sack. I opened it to find two cheap cuts of mutton and two collars with leashes.

"Andraste's ass," I muttered, wrapping a sheet around myself. "Were you planning to steal our _dogs_?" I sighed. A mabari was valuable; they cost more than some people might make in a dozen years. But really, only an abject moron would think a mabari would simply allow itself to be taken from the person he had bonded to.

"No!" the intruder said quickly. I recognized him vaguely as a man who had been eating in the common room at the same time as us.

"You know, this isn't the best time for obvious lies," Anders said.

"Yeah?" the man said. "Last I checked I'm armed and you're both naked!" With that he snapped his wrist, releasing a hidden dagger.

I froze his arm before he could strike. "I'm _always_ armed," I said. Anders grabbed the man and turned him around so I could dress quickly. I didn't even bother with the belt or caplet, just pulling on the blue shift that made up the base of my Warden robes. As he quickly did the same I kept daggers aimed at our guest. Anders was pulling his hair out from under the collar of his robes when the door to our room slammed open.

I wasn't entirely sure what happened next. All I knew was Anders was shouting at me to stop before he told someone to hold on while he hauled me across the room. "You're all right," he said to me. "Watch him." With that he bolted from the room, closing the door. The man who had planned on stealing our dogs was backed into a corner, a look of terror on his face.

"I… I didn't mean any harm," he stuttered. "I just figured if you could afford two you could get two more, it wouldn't be no loss. Please don't kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you," I said, "but you are going to jail."

"That's fine!"

I sat on a chair, keeping an eye on him the entire time. Wiping my hair back from my face I blinked, eyes stinging. "What…?" I glanced down, my hands were covered in blood.

Anders returned a moment later, followed by an older templar, carrying his helm. The man gave me a very brief salute before announcing he would be bringing our intruder in to the local guards for us. When the two had left Anders locked the door, placing a chair under the knob. "Are you all right?" he asked, leading me to the bed.

"Fine," I said. "But… whose blood is this?"

He sighed, grabbing a rag and dampening it in the washbasin. "The templar," Anders began, wiping off my hands. "He was in the room next door. When he sensed destruction magic being used he rushed over here."

"_What_?" I stared at him, horrified. "Anders, what did I do?"

"He grabbed you and you attacked him," he said. "You were… screaming."

"Oh Maker," I gasped.

Anders set the rag aside and pulled the blankets up, wrapping his arms around me. "It's all right," he said. "No permanent damage. I got him all fixed up and apologized. I was trying to figure out how to explain it and he guessed pretty close to the truth on his own based on what you were shouting." Anders brushed my hair back. "He's not thrilled, but he understands. He shouldn't have barged in here anyways, really. If he'd done that when we just lit the fireplace or heated some water one of us might have killed him immediately, and there are plenty of mages out on their own these days with full Circle permission."

"Even so," I said, shuddering in horror. "I… I don't even remember." Anders gave me a sympathetic glance, wiping my cheek. "It's like I'm an animal or something. I just attacked someone without warning?"

He sat up. "Technically you attacked a templar who grabbed you. You didn't lunge at a random person on the street. I'm not going to lie, you overreacted. _Really_ overreacted, and if I hadn't been here he probably wouldn't have survived. But even…"he paused before going on, "even _before_, you wouldn't have just stood there and let someone try and restrain you without retaliating."

I shook my head. "No. I wasn't even thinking. I just acted. I could have killed him and I wasn't even aware of what I was doing!" Anders tried to reassure me but really, what could he say? Without thinking I had nearly managed to kill someone. I buried my face against him, sobbing.

I didn't even remember falling asleep, but when I woke Anders was still holding tightly onto me, breathing softly. He slowly opened his eyes as I stirred. "Feeling better?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "I wish I could apologize. I feel horrible."

Anders sat up, stretching. "His name is Ser Tomas, he's on his way to a posting at the Lothering chantry." I looked over at him. "I asked," Anders said. "I knew you'd say something like that once you were back in your right mind."

I dropped a note to Lothering, as sincere an apology as I could write, before we left. I didn't think it would be enough but not sure what else I could do.

* * *

Things were surprisingly calm for months. We chased down reports of darkspawn, slowly staffed the Peak, and continued about the everyday business of being Wardens without any long-lost relations, international incidents, or national emergencies to disturb us. Nathaniel and I were sitting quietly in the office, him going though paperwork as I worked out a training roster, one afternoon when he passed me letter from Gerard in the Free Marches.

"Maker's breath," I groaned, reading it and flopping further back into my desk chair.

_ Brothers and Sisters,_

_ We have been experiencing additional difficulties with the Chantry as of late in our recruitment efforts. This could not come at a worse time, as we are also facing a similar darkspawn threat  
to the one you encountered: sightings of hurlocks with the power of speech have been reported all over the coastlands. If you could see fit to reassigning some of your mages, or recruiting  
new mages for us, we would be in your debt. Healers are in particular demand, but all mages would be most welcome.  
In Vigilance,  
Gerard, Commander of the Grey, Free Marches_

"So what are your thoughts?" Nathaniel asked.

"I wish we knew how many he needed," I mused. Nathaniel shrugged.

In the end I gathered all the mages together and explained the situation. Two elected to go immediately, both former apostates. When I made the same proposal at the Peak not even two weeks later three more joined their group.

"Give this to the commander when you arrive," I said, handing a letter to one of them. It asked Gerard how many mages he needed in total, since I would go to the Ferelden Circle for him if necessary. I also wanted to determine if he wanted us to perform the joining, or if he would prefer they join after arriving.

"It's been an honor, Commander," she said, saluting me. I returned the gesture and waved as the five mages boarded their ship. It would take them directly to the port at Ostwick where they would be met by the Wardens.

Another month passed when yet another letter arrived, this time from Augustus in the Imperium. Nathaniel had opened it first; he stared at it blankly before dubbing it 'mage-speak' and passing it on to me.

"What, don't tell me _he_ needs mages, too," Nathaniel quipped.

"No," I said. "Although he wants to know if we've got any idea what's going on, since Nevarra and Antiva have both been begging _him_ for mages."

"Here's a question," Nathaniel said. "Why do they all need so many mages? I didn't think the other nations recruited nearly as many people as we do. The impression I got was that they only need to replace people lost to the Calling, they're not building from scratch like us."

"That is a _fantastic_ question," I said. "Augustus mentioned something very similar." Actually, Augustus had said 'what in the Maker's name are they doing to all their mages that they suddenly need so many, eating them for breakfast?' I thought about that for a moment before grinning.

"What's your idea?" Nathaniel said, reading the expression on my face.

"Gerard needs more mages," I told him. "I was going to go to the Circle and recruit for him next month."

"You're not going to?"

I grinned. "Oh, I am. And he's going with me. We can get some answers in person, hopefully."

"How will you manage that?"

"Dear Gerard, as you will be their commander I think it would be a wise idea for you to join me in my trip to the Ferelden Circle of Magi and for the subsequent Joining. Please let me know when you will arrive in Ferelden and I will be sure to meet you personally at the port of Amaranthine." I raised an eyebrow and Nathaniel shook his head, grinning.

"Good plan," he said. I quickly wrote the letter and sealed it, Varel would have it posted for me tomorrow.

We discussed the situation over dinner that night. "I wonder," Jowan said between bites. "Why isn't _Orlais_ asking for mages?"

"Twitchy's got a point," Oghren said after wiping his mouth with his beard. "You'd think the Chantry would have them on lockdown."

"Alain's pretty clever," Anders said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to get around them."

"Maybe," I said. "Or he doesn't want to risk bringing in more mages, if something is happening…" I sighed, pushing my food around on my plate. "I would _hope_ that if mages were in danger Gerard would tell me before I sent _our_ people to him."

"What you hope and what actually happens are rarely the same thing," Nathaniel said.

He had a good point there. I suppose there was nothing left to do but wait for Gerard.

* * *

_I never like my transitional chapters... Hope everyone's 2011 is going well. I've been celebrating with critical hard drive failures and a massive job hunt._  
_Thanks as always to my readers and reviewers!_


	91. I'm blaming you for all this

Nathaniel and I met Gerard at the harbor. I introduced the two men and Gerard greeted us both politely. We climbed into the coach once his trunk had been retrieved. "So," I said as soon as the door had closed. "Is there any particular reason the Free Marches, Antiva, and Nevarra suddenly have such a dire need for mages?"

He started coughing. "Well. You don't mince words, do you?"

"Not when I may have sent five of my people into a dangerous situation without even telling them what they were walking into," I said. "They're Wardens, they would have gone anyways even if something unpleasant was waiting for them. I don't feel right sending them blindly, though. These are people I recruited myself, people we've been working with for years."

He sighed. "I understand." Gerard looked out the window at the countryside passing us by. "The situation is complicated."

"_Is_ there a danger?" I asked. "Is there something we can do to help?"

"There is… but it may not be as severe as you think," he said. "The magic you shared with our mages, at the conference?" I nodded. "Well… I've never seen anything like it. A mage that's as powerful as any warrior, with magic on top of that? Brilliant, really."

"That's why I wanted to share it," I said.

"And I'm glad you did," he said. "The Chantry, however, isn't particularly pleased. You know how they are, any magic that isn't approved is forbidden by default."

"How did the Chantry even learn of this?" I said.

"That I don't know," he admitted. "Believe me, I wish I did. For all we know it could simply be that a templar observed one of our mages in action. It seems to have attracted attention almost everywhere, though. I'm amazed you haven't been dealing with problems from them as well."

"I think Ferelden and the Chantry have enough problems right now," Nathaniel said. "We've been in a standoff for more than a year now."

"True," Gerard said. "That isn't even the whole of it, either. They seem to have discovered there are now Grey Wardens who know all the skills of templars, with none of the lyrium addiction to go along with it. This is… more troubling to them, as many templars themselves didn't even realize their jobs were possible without the lyrium. Some are… well, let's say they're not thrilled."

"Most don't know," I said. "At least, not outside Ferelden." Sighing, I looked out the window. "I'll need to speak with him first, of course, but if it comes down to it and they force a confrontation I can say I taught everyone. I learned them myself from the king… not much, just enough to pass on the basics. He's beyond their reach for retaliation, and they're already out for my blood. I'd rather it fall on me than Ronan."

A dry chuckle came from Gerard. "Well, confronting someone would mean they're admitting it's true," he said. "They've been denying it so far."

"That's good, at least," I said. "But… what's going on with the mages?"

"It isn't a danger for us," he said. "At least, I don't _think_ it is. They just… won't even let us near the Circles."

Anders and I exchanged a glance. "Is… is there a reason to think the mages there might be in danger?" Anders asked quickly.

"Not that I know of," Gerard said. "I spoke with Alain, apparently they _did_ let him in when he began making a fuss- he had the same concerns in mind. I believe he actually accused the templars at the entrance of slaughtering the mages for sport and refused to be quiet. Granted, that is how he always behaves when attempting to recruit a new mage, or so his lieutenant told me. So it could very well have been business as usual for everyone involved. But, once inside he conscripted nearly a dozen mages at once, not the usual single mage, and got thrown out on his backside for it. They have always been wary of letting us in to recruit just because the Chantry hates letting any mages leave to join the Wardens, where they will be free of Templar scrutiny." Anders and I nodded. This wasn't news to us. "Of course, you know better than I would about that," Gerard said with a chuckle. "I suspect news of Alain's stunt and the number of mages he freed has spread and barred us all from our respective Circles."

"That could explain why he hasn't written to us for mages," I mused.

"From what I know he's rather embarrassed about the entire situation," Gerard confided. "Marko told me that the First himself wrote him a rather stern letter about being so dramatic in the course of his duties, and remembering that his actions could impact Wardens around Thedas."

"Ouch," I said. I dreaded the day I'd get one of those letters. Of course, I also assumed it was a matter of _when_.

He sighed. "I should have said more in my letter, I can see why you would have been concerned. I'm more worried about the templar issue," he said. "One of my men was cornered in the street by a templar who demanded to know if it was true that they didn't _really_ need lyrium to do their jobs. I've heard similar stories from Marko as well."

"What did he tell him?" I asked.

"Well, my man didn't even know what he was talking about. He'd never heard about the lyrium addiction, so when the man asked if it was true he just confirmed it. Evidently the templars can sense another with the same skills. I had no idea."

"Neither did I," I admitted. "Can you?"

He shrugged. "Not particularly, maybe something faint if I focused but generally nothing that stands out." He put a hand to his mouth in thought before returning to gesturing as he spoke. "Although, and this is just off the top of my head, perhaps my senses as a Warden override that. Maybe I can't sense templars because it isn't a powerful enough feeling to overpower the sensing of Wardens and darkspawn."

"Maybe," I said. "I could ask Ronan. He was a templar, a true templar, before he was a Warden. Maybe he can say if it's different now. Not that it matters much for us, though."

Gerard chuckled. "Indeed," he said. "It would be far more useful if we could teach our _mages_ to sense templars!" We all laughed at that. "Ah, it's good I'm here. I've never been to Ferelden, and seeing another nation is always exciting. I do like the idea of helping to pick mages at the Circle and being a part of the Joining. I will be their commanding officer, after all. It only seems appropriate."

I nodded. "I don't think we'll have the same issues at the Circle here," I said. "The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander are… um…" I paused, hunting for a word. "Well, not sure if I would say _friends_, especially in the case of the latter. But we are on much better terms than when I was a Circle mage."

"I suspect they have to make some allowances when the Commander of the Grey also happens to be the best friend of the king," he said. "You're quite lucky," he said. I raised an eyebrow. "You need to talk to the nobility and you speak to one man. I have dozens of royal families across dozens of city-states I have to fight with. Takes ages to get the smallest thing accomplished." He shook his head, chuckling. "At least I don't have Marko's problems, though. I cannot imagine having to negotiate with multiple _Crow_ _cells_ for my tithes and conscripts."

"Me neither," I admitted. "The Crows do have a track record of trying to kill me, though."

Gerard gave me a strange look. I could have sworn he was trying not to laugh. "Is it true that the first Crow they sent to kill you failed and ended up becoming your lo—"

"Yes," I said with a sigh before he could finish. "But there's a lot more to the story than that."

"No, there really isn't," Anders interjected. "Unless 'Maggie has a thing for men with long blonde hair a great sense of style' counts as more to the story." He laughed as I elbowed him.

* * *

We left for the Circle the next day, bringing Tobias along with us. Four would make night watches much easier. Only having to cover a quarter of the night each was practically a luxury. Although Gerard was perfectly comfortable on horseback we took the wagon, knowing the same could not be said of any recruits.

"You have seen the talking darkspawn?" Anders asked him.

"Just one," he said. "I… I don't know _what_ to think of it, really. I've never been more horrified in my life. They're a difficult enough foe in their normal state, giving them cunning and reasoning…" he shook his head.

"Tell me," I said, "do you know how long they live? Darkspawn, I mean."

"Around me? Perhaps thirty seconds," he said with a laugh. "As it is for all of you. But… on their own? Who knows. We really don't know much about them at all, sadly."

"I really wish I knew if they were all survivors of the Architect's experiments of if one of them had figured out how to make more," I said. "I suppose we may never know."

"Probably not," he agreed. "I suspect it did come from Ferelden, though, since it was spotted near the shore initially. They can, from what I know, swim. Well, after a fashion."

"Fantastic," I muttered. He could only nod in agreement.

"Aren't there Circles all over Ferelden now?" he asked, clearly not wanting to think too much longer on the image of darkspawn swimming across Thedas.

"There are," I said. "But the smaller ones are mostly for younger children, so they can be closer to their families. Any full mages there will be teachers and mentors. They're less likely to want to leave, since they made the choice to be a teacher. He nodded, understanding. "The main Circle will be where you'll find the mages who don't really have much else to do. They still hold classes and everything, but the bulk of the tower is full of people who don't want to teach and haven't found a position outside the tower."

"How is it working?" he asked. "Are there problems?"

"Seems to be working so far," I shrugged. "Can't say I'm up to date on the everyday business of the Circle, but there haven't been any more riots. I'm sure if it was absolute chaos I'd be getting a regular earful from Knight-Commander Greagoir." Anders and Tobias both laughed at that. "People with more… traditional views aren't thrilled, but even then…" I wasn't quite sure how to explain things.

"Fereldans can't stand people butting into their lives," Anders finished. "So since they can still send their mage children away never to be seen again it keeps most of them satisfied. Pressuring other people to change how they live isn't really done. Not by anyone with a bit of manners, at least. So they may be angry to find out their neighbor's mage child comes home for Andraste day and goes to school only a few miles away, but they'll keep it to themselves."

"Ah, the famous Fereldan independence," Gerard said.

"Pretty much," Anders said. "Most people, if you try and tell them what to do, well, they'd end up more determined to do the opposite just to prove a point."

"Not in an alienage," Tobias said. "The hahren- that's like a village elder- butts into everyone's lives. Even arranges marriages." He shrugged. "It could be intentional, though. Another way to tell themselves they're different from humans." He laughed. "You know, given the choice I prefer being left alone. I really dreaded the day they'd haul me into his house so I could meet a total stranger I'd be expected to marry."

"But you love total strangers," Anders teased. "On a very regular basis, in fact!"

"Yeah, and I wouldn't want to marry any of them, either. No more than they'd want to marry me, I suspect. And don't act like you were any better before she came along. I've heard the stories. Aidan said you were practically a legend in the Circle, even years after you'd left. Very impressive, by the way. Is it true you were once caught in a storeroom with three women at the same time."

"Nice to be remembered," Anders said cheerfully. "And a gentleman never kisses and tells. Fortunately for you, I don't think I've ever been a gentleman. My reputation is slightly exaggerated. It was only two women. And one man."

Tobias made a choking noise as soon as Anders said that. Laughing, I slapped him on the back. "Take a breath. It shouldn't be _that_ easy to shock you."

He just shook his head after a moment, laughing.

Gerard chuckled. "It seems mages abandon social convention everywhere," he said. "At home the templars will tell anyone who listens that abominations stalk the streets here and good people are afraid to leave their homes for fear of the maleficar running wild."

"First I've heard of anything like that," I said. "Come to think of it, I suspect I may personally know at least ninety percent of the maleficar in Ferelden…"

"Just don't tell the Chantry," Anders said.

We finally arrived at the tower. The ferryman took us across without any of the usual delays I'd become accustomed to. I couldn't help but notice he had a new boat. I asked him about it.

He chuckled. "Oh, this is quite the place to be these days."

"Really?" I asked, confused. If anything there would be _fewer _people crossing into the tower.

"You'll see," was all he said.

Anders and I both froze once we reached the island. He glanced over at me and we chuckled. "I still feel like they're going to drag me off and lock me up," he admitted.

"Me too," I said. "Worse for you, though. I've never been dragged through these doors as an adult, just the once as a child."

"It must have been terrifying," Gerard mused.

"It was," I said. Anders nodded in agreement.

"I remember when they took Aidan away," Tobias said. "Rose and I were talking about it. I had nightmares for weeks that someone would show up and take me away. I didn't even realize that was what it was until Rose asked if I remembered. I was only eight or so, he was a couple years younger. They pulled him from his mother, and she held onto the Templar's legs while he tried to walk away, just dragging her in the dirt until she let go."

"I had given up on fighting the templars up until we got to the shore," Anders said. "When I realized _this_ was where they were taking me I started to panic. Screamed, kicked, bit one on the face, accidentally set the boat on fire with a lightning bolt and jumped out to try and swim back to shore." He sighed. "One almost drowned jumping in after me in his armor. Another stripped his off and pulled us both to shore. _This_ side of the shore, specifically." He sighed dramatically. "Ah, memories."

Gritting my teeth, I walked up to the doors and pulled the rope. Although we couldn't hear it, a bell was sounding on the other side. A moment later they swung open. "Oh. You."

"Carroll, always a joy," I said, rolling my eyes.

He sighed, opening the door for us. "Just so you know, I'm blaming you for all this."

"For all what?" I asked him, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"You'll see," he replied.

"I'm getting really tired of hearing those words," I muttered, walking past him.

Walking in, I saw an exhausted looking Greagoir sitting in the main hall. A surprising number of mages, none of whom were at all familiar, stood around talking and gossiping. "Strange," I said.

"Very," Anders agreed.

Gerard looked at us. "Strange?"

"Everyone seems… _happy_," I said. Anders nodded. Not to say that everyone in the Circle spent every day of their life miserable. But an entire room crowded full of laughing cheerful mages was rare.

The Knight-Commander glanced up to see who had been ringing the bell, a look of dread on his face. Seeing me he frowned, standing and shaking his head. "Margaret, is this your doing?"

"Huh?" was all I could say in response. "Is what my doing? I'm just here for recruits."

"Maker's breath, what do you do with them all?" I stared at him and he colored slightly. "Right. Easy to forget… _that_. Sorry."

"This time they're not for me," I said. "This is Warden Commander Gerard of the Free Marshes. Apparently the Circle of Magi there is unable to provide him with _any _mages, so he came to us for help. Having seen a blight first-hand he knew Ferelden would be far more understanding about the needs of the Grey Wardens."

"Commander," Greagoir said, saluting. I couldn't help but give him a dirty look for that. After all, even if we were getting along now, he had never once used my title or saluted me, and my rank was identical to Gerard's. The only difference, of course, is that Gerard isn't a mage.

He sighed, looking at me. "Please stop glaring at me, Margaret. It's easy to call a stranger by a title. I've known you since you were _four_. I still have a scar on my hand from where you bit me when we were bringing you here. It's all I can do not to ask if your homework is done."

"Nathaniel does that now," I said, offering him a smile. That was a fairly reasonable answer, actually. I felt slightly guilty for assuming it was something kind of prejudice on his part instead of just familiarity.

"As long as you have _someone_ sane watching over your shoulder," he said. Apparently Anders had been lumped under the 'not sane' header along with me. "And really, you can skip the talk of blights and the attempts at guilt. Even if you didn't legally have the right to conscript every soul in this tower you know Irving will just give you whatever you want. He always does."

"Not always," I said, thinking back to begging Irving to reconsider making Jowan tranquil. It wasn't a subject I wanted to dwell on, though. "So… what exactly is it you think was my doing?"

"Look around!" he said. "How many mages lived here when you were here last? Six hundred? Seven? We never recovered to the numbers we had before Uldred's attack." I nodded, wincing. Almost a thousand mages lived there when I was an apprentice.

"And?" I said.

"Well, knowing that, and knowing we now have Circles in six other cities, can you explain why a thousand mages currently live in this tower?"

Anders gasped and I stared at him in shock. "A _thousand_?" I said. He nodded. "Um... blight babies starting to show signs?"

"No," he said flatly. "And what in Andraste's name is a 'blight baby'"?

I shrugged. "People react differently to tragedy and the potential end of the world. You'd be surprised. The population of Amaranthine surged nine months after the blight ended."

He groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. "Charming," Greagoir muttered. "And no, it is not all children. We have the usual number of children. The rest are all _adults_."

"Huh?" I said again. "Look, can you just tell me what happened all at once. The little bits and pieces thing is going to mean I keep making that noise."

"Listen!" he said. "Not to me, to them!" he waved an arm and went silent. I glanced around the room. A few of the groups were whispering and pointing at me. After a moment I realized what was so strange about the conversation in the room: I couldn't understand a word of it.

"They're… _foreign_?" I said with surprise. I could hear snippets of Orlesian from one corner, and an accent not unlike Zevran's from behind me.

"Exactly," he said. "Come with me, I'm sure Irving will love telling you all about this. _ He_ thinks it's fantastic." I suspected that Irving and Greagoir liked nothing better than arguing with each other over games of chess, so I suppose if Irving loved this latest development Greagoir would hate it in principal just so they would have _something_ to bicker over.

"Well, it is replacing all the people lost during the blight," I said, trying to find a bright side.

"I'm highly disturbed by this optimistic streak you've developed since joining the Grey Wardens," he muttered. "Someone with your life shouldn't be so cheerful."

"What's wrong with my life?" I asked. "I'm practically a professional hero. What could be better than that?" He made a face and I laughed. I didn't believe any of that, of course, but I knew it would get a rise out of Greagoir.

He only shook his head, clearly disagreeing with me but not wanting to argue. We finally reached Irving's office. When he saw us the First Enchanter jumped up. "Did you see?" he asked. "Isn't this exciting?"

"What's going on? Who are they all?"

"Well, they're mages," he said. I raised my eyebrow and the First Enchanter directed us to sit. Once we had I introduced everyone.

"Mi scusi" came a heavily accented voice from the door. I glanced back and saw a dark haired elf backing up. "I come back later," she said, skittering away.

"They're slowly learning the language," he said.

"Where did they come from?" I asked.

"They're apostates," Greagoir said.

Irving waved his hand. "I don't think moving from one Circle to another would make someone an apostate," he said.

"They didn't have _permission_ to move!" Greagoir said. "Running away from a Circle in one country to move to a Circle in another isn't approved by the Chantry." He sighed, sitting down near the wall. "I suppose it is better than simply running away." With that Greagoir gave Anders a pointed glance. Anders only smiled.

"Wait, _what_?"

Irving grinned broadly. I'd never seen him look so pleased, to be honest. "Apparently there are a great many mages who, while they are perfectly content to live within a Circle, prefer a Circle where they have freedoms not allowed in other countries. As one put it, they like the thought of a Circle that treats them like people. The first was a group who were supposed to be assigned as healers to the Orlesian army. They cut through the mountain pass and went to the first Chantry they saw in Ferelden asking for an escort here. Then a group who escaped from the Circle in Antiva bartered passage on a boat with wind spells. It's been nonstop for months since then."

"Why not Tevinter?" Tobias asked.

"Tevinter is just the opposite of everywhere else," I said. "There mages run everything. That seems just as wrong as the opposite_. _Most people don't want that any more than they want to be seen as less than a person."

"I wouldn't mind that," Anders said. I elbowed him and chuckled. "But that is the reason, I think. I wouldn't _mind_ being in charge of everything since, well, I'm brilliant. But really, I just _want_ to be equal. I think that's what any of us want, and it isn't exactly a lot to ask."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Tobias said, rolling his eyes. "Let the elves know how your great plan for equality works."

"When the Chantry starts locking elves up from childhood and taking children from their parents as a rule we'll talk," Anders said. "Since I would have loved the freedom of living in an alienage when I was locked in here. At least you could go outside without worrying about being killed on sight."

"Wardens," I said, cutting them both off. "Let's just agree that everything is horrible for everyone who isn't born a human man without magical powers and even some of them have a hard time, and leave it at that, shall we?"

"Got it," Anders said. Turning to Tobias he added "sorry, sore subject."

"Agreed," Tobias added, patting Anders on the shoulder. "I think we're probably both a bit overly defensive."

"I really can't complain," Gerard said cheerfully, "so I suppose there may be something to that. I have a bloody horrible retirement plan, though."

I glanced over at him and burst out laughing. A moment later the other Wardens did the same. Greagoir and Irving, who knew what we would all face, just looked on in horror.

"Anyways," I said when we had calmed down. "We need Wardens."

Irving nodded. "Can you give me a few hours?" he asked. "I can get everyone in the assembly hall; you can just present it to them yourself and see who is interested. I don't know any of the new mages enough to guess who might be a good candidate."

In the end I spoke to the mages, pausing frequently so some of the foreign newcomers could translate for their companions who were less used to our language.

We ended up with almost fifty mages, far more than what I had expected. The majority would be going to the Free Marches, but Tobias and Anders both sensibly pointed out that while we were there it would just make sense to recruit for Ferelden as well. Since I had waited for Irving to gather everyone in the assembly hall it was too late for us to leave by the time we spoke to all the interested mages. "Maybe we'll camp tonight," I mused.

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Boss, you really want to tell these people that they need to start sleeping on the dirt a day early, only half an hour from their own beds, because you don't like it here?"

Damned observant rogues. "Well, no…" I admitted.

"Besides, they probably have people to spend some time with before leaving," he said. "They may not get another chance."

"Good point," I said. "I can deal with this tower for one night."

"Fantastic!" he grinned.

"So you met a girl?" I said, finally realizing why he wanted to stay so badly.

"Something like that," he admitted.

"Just don't get caught by the templars," I warned.

Anders and I were given one of the nicer guest rooms. If I wasn't mistaken, it was the room Duncan had been given many years ago. We were just falling asleep when an angry templar woke us. "Commander!" someone shouted through the door. Anders got up and pulled on a pair of pants before drawing the bedcurtains closed. "Ser, I was actually hoping to speak to your… um… wife," the templar said, clearly uncomfortable with both using a term of respect for Anders as well as referring to anyone as a mage's spouse.

"Here's the thing with women," Anders said. "They take a lot longer to get presentable. So unless you want to speak to an undressed Warden Commander you've got me."

I laughed at that. "I can hear you, go ahead."

"We found your, um, Warden," he said.

"I wasn't aware he was lost," Anders said.

"He must have been," the templar said, "since there's no legitimate reason for him to have been in a storeroom, especially not in the condition he was found in."

I yanked a long nightshirt that had been tossed across the foot of the bed on and stumbled out. "Condition? What happened? Is Tobias hurt?"

The man blushed seeing me and saluted before turning his gaze to the ceiling. Really, this was less revealing than my Tevinter robes, but I suppose just knowing it was a nightdress made him uncomfortable. "Not hurt, Commander. He was… not alone." I sighed, not feeling the least bit surprised. "_Really_ not alone," the templar added. Anders laughed as I sighed again. "I don't see the humor in this, Ser," the templar said, sounding annoyed. "He was caught with three young women. That sort of thing is unnatural. It's an affront to the Maker!"

I glared at Anders and he wisely shut his mouth. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ser," I said calmly. "I hate to mention this sort of behavior in front of our new recruits, but I assure you he'll be mucking out the stables for at least a month once we get home."

The templar saluted me once again and left.

"Will he now?" Anders asked when our door was shut.

"Nah, but I may lecture a bit," I said. "It makes us look bad when someone gets caught doing something like that. We're here on official business and he has a bedroom to use! But you know how templars are. That was what he wanted to hear. I would love to come here and recruit without someone getting caught fooling around somewhere, though. Although given our reputations I suppose Irving and Greagoir are just happy it isn't us they catch."

"I'm sure that's why they gave us the nice guest room," Anders said. "Three women," he added, sounding impressed. He paused and made a face. "That little bastard beat my record!"

Laughing, I grabbed him by the waistband. "Back to bed, old man. You can barely keep up with me, you really think you could handle two more at once?"

"I can most certainly keep up with you," he said, feigning insult. "Is that a challenge?"

I yanked the nightshirt off and hopped back on the bed. "Well?" I said, waiting for him to join me. "Prove me wrong!"

I suppose it shouldn't have been surprising that we were both yawning as we gathered up the new recruits the next morning. With so many our wagon was useless for anything but carrying bags. We all had to walk along side, adding several days to our trip.

"You know what I wonder?" Anders whispered to me as we sat on watch. I gestured for him to go on. "Why escape one Circle to go to another?"

"Maybe they didn't hate the Circle as much as us?" I guessed.

"Well, clearly," he said. "But if it was all right, why leave at all?"

"More opportunity in Ferelden," I guessed. "A life on the run isn't for everybody. Maybe they figured the templars wouldn't come after them so long as they were in _a_ Circle?" It seemed as good a reason as any. I heard someone moan from one of the tents and giggled. We'd had to borrow quite a few from the templars just to get everyone home, I suspected this was the most excitement some of these tents had seen… well, ever.

After a brief stop at the Peak to get Fiona, who was still in need of mages and would be brining many of the recruits home with her, we finally returned to the keep.

"How are things going?" I asked Fiona while we waited for recruits to return from the Deep Roads. Gerard had all but seethed with jealousy seeing how convenient it was for us to send recruits out to kill their first darkspawn.

"Good," she said. "Very good. I recruited in Denerim not long ago. Some elves from the alienage, a few surface dwarves, and the king even called me to meet with him when he realized I was in town so he could offer a few of his knights and guards who had expressed interest."

"How is Alistair?" I asked, trying to prod her for more information.

"Subtle," she said, seeing right through me. "He seems to be fine. The babies…" she paused, looking into the distance, "they are beautiful. Perfect. They have the same smile he did as… well…"

I nodded. "Any further thoughts on…"

"Not really," she said. "We, we actually spent an afternoon together in his office. Talking about the Grey Wardens, about Duncan, about Weisshaupt and what I knew of his father. And then we got on the subject of books we had both read. It… it was nice, to speak with him like that. Even if I don't tell him, well, I'm content knowing him, knowing he turned out a good man. That he makes time to speak with me, even if it is because he enjoys talking about the people I once knew, is nice."

I couldn't argue with that, as much as I wished she would tell him.

The joining was an amazing success, with more than three quarters surviving. We saw the new Wardens off at the harbor when they left with their Commander only days later, once they had some time to recover from the ceremony.

I did finally receive a letter from Alain more than six months later. It wasn't about mages, though. He wrote in Warden code, which had come back into vogue since my trip to Orlais, and he had taken further security by having it translated into code from Tevinter. Even then it was remarkably vague.

_Margaret-  
Increased DS movement near Sea of Ash. Recall our conversation when I was last in Ferelden regarding knowledge Bregan shared with our enemy? A devotee of this enemy is said to be leading them. I have stepped up patrols and would appreciate any extra hands you could send my way. Let's stop this before it starts, yes?  
Your brother,  
Alain _

With shaking hands I set the letter down on my desk.

* * *

_FYI, the conversation Alain is referring to is in chapter 39. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers!_


	92. I'd rather eat a bowl of broken glass

Anders and Jowan found me hiding in the wine cellars with Oghren. I had slipped a translation of the letter and a note about where I'd be under Nathaniel's door since he was out for the evening and went to look for the berserker. Along the way I posted notices about a mandatory all-Warden meeting the following morning. "Mags?" he said, seeing the expression of panic on my face.

"Drinking time," was all I responded with. "Come on."

"It's not sodding _fair_," Oghren said, throwing an empty bottle at the wall where it smashed. "We barely survived the first one!"

"Maggie?" Anders called, ducking before he was hit by glass.

"Oh, sorry," Oghren said. "Wasn't aiming at you."

"Is… something wrong?"

"Yes." Anders looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate. "What's the very worst thing ever?"

Anders and Jowan both stared at us. "No," Anders said.

"Maybe."

"_No_," he repeated.

"Alain has seen increased activity near one of the known locations."

"Wait," Jowan said, looking at us. "You _know_ where they are? The old gods? You know where they are right now?"

"Yeah," I said.

He slid down the wall, sitting near me. A moment later he reached up for a bottle off the rack. "So… why haven't we killed them?" Jowan asked before taking a deep drink. "I can't believe I just said that," he added a moment later. "I blame you for this, so you know."

"I don't know, bloodthirsty kind of works for you," Anders said with a chuckle as he sat next to me. "And we haven't killed them because best we know one is encased in solid rock and another is under the ocean."

"Oh." He glanced at Anders. "Wait, you knew, too?" Anders only shrugged in response. "So many secrets," he muttered.

"Be glad you've got me as your commanding officer," I said. "Back when I joined you know what they told me? _Nothing_. Alistair and I didn't even know how to kill the archdemon until just before the battle with it in Denerim!" I sighed. "I can't tell everyone everything. If people knew this… well, how long until someone takes it upon themselves to try and be a hero?" Shrugging, I added "it's all written down, in case something happens to everyone who knows."

"When did you get so damn responsible?" Jowan asked.

"Don't have much choice," I said. "I'm the boss."

Anders sighed. "You think it really will be…"

"I don't know," I said. "I honestly have no idea. I _know_ their numbers aren't high enough. But if they're breeding like mad because they expect it to take a decade or two to reach the bastard, well…" I took another breath. "I never thought I'd have to face this again."

"Well, it's not one yet," Anders said. "We… we'll know when it is, right?"

I nodded. "You have a dream of a dragon, well, let me know. I'll be the one screaming in her sleep."

* * *

The next morning, once all the Wardens were in the main hall, I had the mages go around warding the doors after kicking any staff members out. "All right," I said, not bothering to hide my concern. "Everyone come close, and… you'll probably all want to sit." Once they had I sat on the dais that once held the throne, thankfully never replaced after the keep was rebuilt. "So… there's no easy way to tell you this. Right now I, as well as most of the commanders and senior Wardens in Thedas, know of the locations of the last two old gods." Everyone started gasping and looking around in shock, I gestured for them to be quiet. "Now, I'm sure you all know that none of us have figured out just what, if anything, the difference between an old god and a regular high dragon would be. So while we know each of them would mean another blight, we don't know if the blights end with them. But… I've just been informed by Commander Alain of Orlais that the darkspawn have made a push towards one of these locations."

Nathaniel stood up and unrolled a map of Orlais once the talking had died down. "This," I said, pointing, "is the general location of the old god."

"Where is the other one?" Tobias asked. "Can we get to it? Kill it before they make another move?"

"It's under the Amaranthine Sea," I said. "About halfway between us and Ostwick in the Free Marches. So… inaccessible to us, but also inaccessible to the Darkspawn."

"Let's hope," he said.

"What else can we do?" I said. "I can't breathe underwater indefinitely to cast spells, I doubt any of you would fare much better." I sighed. "There are people in our confidence in Orzammar who know of the location," I said. "They have some of their best people trying to find a way to tunnel under the ocean. It seems unlikely, though. The weight of the water would collapse everything."

No one seemed to have any more comments so I went on.

"Alain has asked for our help," I said. "I wrote back to see exactly what he needs, but here's what we'll do for now, since mail from Orlais is slow. We're going to begin a massive recruiting push. I know we've been growing quickly, but we need more. I'm asking for a group of a dozen or so to volunteer and leave for Orlais immediately. Varel's already made the travel arrangements; you would sail in the morning." People began looking around. "This is _not_ a permanent reassignment. I'm sure Alain wrote to me as soon as he found out, and I'm sure he has more information now. I don't know how long this will last but… I suspect we'll all be taking turns spending a few months there." I shrugged. "Commander Alain's a good man. He's a good Warden. I know none of you will have any problems working with him or our brothers and sisters in Orlais." I stood up. "Goes without saying that I'm likely to kill anyone who breathes a word of this to an outsider. Last thing we need is a riot." I began to pace. "This is _not_ a blight," I said, almost shouting the words. "We're trying to stop it before it becomes one." I glanced out at the group. "The last blight… was not normal. It wasn't started by the darkspawn finding and corrupting an old god. It was started by the Architect attempting to experiment on the old god, and corrupting it in the process. That's why it was so much quicker and easier."

"Easier?" someone said, laughing cynically.

"Two years? Yeah, I'd say that was easy," I replied. "Considering most blights last _decades_. Sometimes more. So it was a nightmare I never hoped to repeat, but compared to the other four we got off easy. You should all know this," I added. "We're supposed to be the experts, remember?"

Once we had the volunteers settled and sent them off to pack I called several of the more experienced Wardens into my office. I passed out copies of the Warden encryption. "Guard these with your _lives_," I warned. "You're each going to one of the garrisons, give that to the Senior Warden and let them know that all mailed communication has to be encrypted from now on. This gets away from you and we have no way to write to the other Wardens in Thedas securely." After making them each repeat what I had just told everyone I sent them off to grab a couple travel partners and deliver the bad news.

Nathaniel walked in while I paced the floor. "Eat," he said, setting a tray down on the small table against a wall. "This isn't going to solve itself today."

"I know," I said, thanking him and grabbing some food. "I…" Sighing, I fell back to my chair. "I never thought I'd have to deal with this again."

"It's not a blight yet," he said.

Standing, I closed the door. A few Wardens gave me nervous looks as I did. "It will be eventually."

He nodded. "I know. We can hold them off, but not forever." He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Best case scenario?"

"Best case? We kill the archdemon the moment they find it. Before it rises, before it begins calling to darkspawn across Thedas."

"You don't think we can kill it before it _becomes_ an archdemon?"

"How?" I shrugged. "We get to it before them, they'll follow. They corrupt it instantly, by touch." I paused, adding "or so I've been told. Who knows how true that is"

"I think you're right," he said. "Killing a dragon is anything but instant," he said. "Even a normal high dragon."

I nodded. "So… best case scenario? A blight that ends in a few hours."

He laughed at that. "Maggie, I think if you have the misfortune to be there when it does they might just make you a saint."

"Oh Maker," I laughed. "Can you even imagine it? The Divine would wet herself!"

After we calmed down he looked at me more seriously. "Will you go to Orlais… if…?"

"Absolutely," I said. "Would I rather eat a bowl of broken glass and rusty nails? Without a doubt. But I'm a Grey Warden before everything else. That hasn't changed."

He nodded. "Figured as much. You telling the king?"

"He's on progress now," I said. "He'll be here in a month or two anyways. I'll tell him then. No easy way to reach him before." I bit my nails. "Have your dreams been worse, the last few days?"

Nathaniel looked thoughtful. "You know, now that you mention it… they were more intense."

"I wonder. Darkspawn, they have their… group mind or whatever. The thing we can sense and connect to. What if there's something similar for Wardens? What if our dreams were bad because the Wardens of Orlais have been reacting to this for days?"

He shrugged and wrote something in a book on his desk, saying "not sure."

"What's that?"

"This?"

"Yes, that," I said, trying to read over his shoulder.

"This is my book of theories," he said, handing it over.

I opened it and began flipping through. There were brief annotations with dates and, occasionally, names. Every time one of us had said "you know, I wonder if…" he had written it down. My theory on the Architect's creations being drawn to me because of the blood connection, Sigrun's recommendation to ensure the King of Orzammar knew how broodmothers were created because the majority were probably originally women sentenced to the deep roads, Anders' numerous theories on darkspawn magic- some written in Anders' own hand.

"How long have you been keeping this?"

He shrugged. "A few years. We're always saying that there aren't enough useful old records. I figured maybe some of the things we've had to figure out on our own could be useful in a couple generations. He colored slightly. "It's really not a big deal. Mostly my own reference."

"No, it's brilliant," I said. "Have I mentioned lately that conscripting you was one of the smartest things I ever did? Since it was." I leaned against the desk. "We do need a proper archivist, though. I should have gotten one years ago."

"Who usually does it? Traditionally, I mean?"

"Mages, from what I know. Not because magic is needed for the job, but because Circle mages will be able to read and write at least two languages. Literacy used to be much rarer before and during the occupation, from what I've gathered."

"Still fairly rare," he said. "Too rare." I nodded in agreement.

"Well, next trip to the Circle… which will probably be in a week or so, I'll try and look for someone who seems suited."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," Greagoir said when he saw me walk into the Circle a few days later. I was in full archdemon armor, armed to the teeth, as were Anders and Oghren. It seemed like a good idea to make sure anyone we recruited knew we still fought.

"I need to talk to you and Irving," I said.

"Yes, I think that's wise," he said.

Once we were settled in the First Enchanter's office I gestured to Anders, he got up and warded the door without a word.

"Is that necessary?" Greagoir asked.

"Yes," I said. "Look…" I pushed my hair back, looking down. "You've both always been good to the Wardens. You've never questioned my need for recruits, and you've kept what information you know about our order quiet. And I really do appreciate that." I took a breath and went on, "especially since I know our, um, history before I became a Warden doesn't give you much reason to. So… I'm telling you this now because I trust you." I exhaled, wishing that the blush I knew was forming would go away. I really didn't like admitting I was probably the most frustrating apprentice ever. And that they had every reason _not_ to trust me or work with me.

"What's wrong?" Irving said, looking at me.

"There is… information only the most senior Wardens in each nation knows," I said. "I am aware of the location of the last two old gods," I said. "They're inaccessible to us, but the order knows where they are."

"All right," Greagoir said. "I'm not surprised the Grey Wardens would keep track of such things. Why are you telling us this?"

"Because the darkspawn are making a move for one of the last old gods," I said without any embellishment. Both men paled.

"You're sure?"

"Completely."

"And your plan?" Greagoir said, immediately turning to his military training.

"The old god in question is in Orlais," I said. "Working with Commander Alain, we hope to put up a barrier, stopping any darkspawn before they reach the location. And… when that no longer works, to kill the archdemon before it can rise and begin calling darkspawn to it."

"_When_?" the Knight-Commander said. "You assume this will fail?"

"There are millions of darkspawn," Anders said. "Only a few hundred Wardens in every country. We can't hold them off forever. It only takes one to slip by, just one to corrupt the old god."

Irving put his face in his hands. "So," he said a moment later, "you're looking for grist for the mill?"

"Hey!" Oghren said, standing up. "Name one time she threw away another person's life!"

I sighed. "He's right, in a way," I told Oghren. "We're _all_ dispensable. We know that. We spend our lives in battle against an unstoppable enemy and we die so others can live."

"Doesn't mean you're about to throw a bunch of kids out as ogre snacks to slow them down." Oghren still sounded horrified. He had dark look on his face, I hadn't seen that since we fought the archdemon. Before that I'd only seen it at the moment he realized his wife had practically fed their family to the darkspawn so she could get more bodies to test the traps.

"Of course not," I said. "I can say we'll give them the best training in Thedas; that we can make them better equipped to meet the darkspawn head on than anyone else in the world. But I can't promise they'll be safe. Since they won't, no Grey Warden is. It's a dangerous job." Something struck me, a conversation from years ago. I looked at Oghren. "Do you remember what Sten said, after I'd recruited Loghain?"

Oghren groaned, stroking his beard. "Some quote from that book of his. He was glad you did it, though. I remember that. He went on and on whenever you weren't around about how impressed he was. Said it made him think you were more rational than the rest of your species."

Anders and Greagoir both snorted at that, holding back laughter. "All right," I said, looking at them and trying not to chuckle myself just from the sight of both of them smiling in the same room, even briefly. "Sten told me that he thought recruiting Loghain was wise because his people don't believe in wasting resources, and no resource is more valuable than a life. I always thought that was smart."

"What book is this from?" Greagoir asked.

"The Qun," I said. "Sten was the leader of a unit of Beresaad. That's like the best of the best among the qunari. He was sent here to learn about the blight for their rulers."

"That does not sound like anything the qunari I've heard of would say," Greagoir said.

"You'd be surprised," I said. "There's more to the world than what the Chantry tells you. Although their treatment of mages is… horrifying." Anders looked at me and I made a face.

"That I have read," Greagoir said. "They cut out their tongues, and keep them in chains."

"Maker's breath!" Anders gasped.

"Yeah," I said. "He and I didn't get on at first. That, and because women in his society aren't fighters. But we were friends at the end."

"He used to have the same name for you and Shale," Oghren mused. "Never could figure out how the two of you ended up with the same nickname."

"It wasn't a nickname," I said. "It was… sort of a title. Or term of endearment. Kadan is the word for something you value highly in his language." I smiled. "Zevran and I went to see him off at the port of Denerim," I said. "Just before he got on the ship he told me that I was a warrior worthy to stand among the Beresaad. I think that's just about the best compliment anyone's ever given me." I shook my head, returning to the present. "I'm way too young to reminisce about old wars," I said with a chuckle. "Not when we've got another staring us in the face."

"You need recruits," Greagoir said.

"As many as possible." I paused when Oghren gave me a pointed glance. Hoping I wouldn't regret it, I said "you know, if you have anyone in training to be a templar who—"

"I can spare a few men, I think," he said. "I've got a few who have no real business being templars. Maybe you can do something with them."

"Would they be willing to take orders from a mage? To work with mages?" Anders asked him pointedly.

"I wouldn't recommend them otherwise," he said. "I do realize that the Warden Commander is a mage." He gave Anders a sardonic glance.

"Just checking," Anders said, holding his hands up.

We left with nearly sixty recruits, some of whom were actually Orlesians excited for a chance to return home free of their Circle. As we were gathering everyone near the doors Irving came back over to me. "Be careful," he said, giving me and Anders both a brief hug.

I assured him we would be. To my surprise the Knight Commander approached us next. "Watch over your people," he said.

"I always do," I replied.

He nodded. "I figured as much. Never would have imagined I'd see the day…"

"I just found something I was good at."

"So it seems," he said. "Although I should point out that it's more accurate to say you found something you actually bothered working at. You would have made a fine Circle Mage if you'd only tried."

"Nah," I said, shaking my head.

He grunted noncommittally before putting a hand on my shoulder and looking from me to Anders. "Maker watch over you both," he said.

"Thank you, Greagoir," I said, surprised by how sincere he sounded. "Let's hope he watches over us all."

* * *

I was pleased to see the other Wardens I had sent out on recruiting missions trickling in with more people over the next few weeks and months. Eventually Alistair's progress made its way to us. I had everyone line up in fresh tunics when he arrived.

"Wow," he said after hugging me and returning their salute. "Lot of new faces around here. Lot of _serious _new faces." He paused and looked at me. "What's wrong?"

"Come on inside," I said.

"Oh, now I don't want to," he said, attempting to get me to laugh.

"It won't be any less true if I don't tell you," I said. "Come on."

He groaned, taking off his crown and following me in as the Wardens returned to training. "How many are there now?"

"As of yesterday one hundred and sixty eight," I said. "We have ten more going through the Joining tonight."

"Maker's breath," he said as we walked into my sitting room. "Expecting another blight?" His face went grey when I didn't answer. "All right," Alistair said, suddenly serious. "I know the archdemon hasn't risen yet. So what's going on?"

I went through everything I knew so far. Our first group of ten was still in Orlais for another month or so, and we'd already sent another fifty on. Alain had suggested three months at a stretch, letting people go home before they were so worn down that they would be a liability.

"So what's happening," Alistair said.

"They open tunnels, we blast them closed with magic or explosives. They try a new approach, we cut them off. It's at a standstill."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," I said. "Orzammar said they're seeing an increase in activity. That could mean they're building up numbers. Eventually… one will get through."

He took a breath, covering his face with his hands. "I… I don't even know what to say." He looked at me, horror in his eyes. "Another blight? So soon? This is a nightmare."

"It… it may be a good thing, in disguise," I said. "In the long term."

He raised an eyebrow. "This I have to hear."

"When else would we have a chance to kill the archdemon before it can rise?" I said. "We usually don't know until it's awake and moving and sending out that call. Now… we know where it is, and the moment it turns we'll be right there, ready to end it. We knew they would find the damned thing eventually. But we're lucky because they found it when we were looking."

"True," he said. "I just wish it wasn't in our lifetime. One was enough. _More_ than enough."

"I may be wrong," I said. "Maybe we can hold them off. Who knows."

"Does the empress know about this?"

"She does," I said. "She's sent her own forces to supplement the Wardens."

"You think I should offer help?" He spoke again, before I could answer. "I mean I _want_ to offer help. A blight is bigger than any one nation and you're right: this is the best chance we have to kill the bastard before it causes more damage. But should I speak to the ambassador? How secret is this? Would he even know?"

"Let me find out," I said. "I'll write to Alain in Orlais, using the Warden encryption, and tell him you're willing to send aid. I'll have him either contact you directly or find out if the ambassador knows. It's _very_ quiet now. We don't want people to panic. This is an isolated area, right on the edge of the uncharted territories. It hasn't been bad keeping it hushed."

"I can't believe the normal Orlesian troops aren't blabbing," he said.

I shrugged. "I suspect that the methods of discipline there are a lot harsher than anything we would find acceptable. And they don't want a riot in Orlais any more than we would here."

"Let's hope," he said. "Since if it becomes common knowledge in Orlais it's only a matter of time before it spreads. I can't even _imagine_ how people would react if they found out we might have another blight so soon."

* * *

Although Alain had said they suspected the group was led by one of the talking darkspawn, things began to look more and more like the start of a traditional blight. Even Orzammar sent aid once they'd noticed how much activity there was in the deep roads, supplementing the Orlesian and Fereldan forces working under the command of the Grey Wardens.

My initial estimations turned out to be too pessimistic. We held the line for one year, and then two. When Alain admitted in a letter that he had been in the field since the beginning I began packing, heading out with Anders, Oghren, Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Tobias, along with our latest batch of fresh men and women for the front. We stood at the docks, welcoming our brothers and sisters back who had just left Orlais, before departing on the very boat they had returned home in. They looked exhausted, but not defeated. I took it as a good sign. I tried not to feel sick as we traveled, not wanting to return to Orlais.

"You all right, boss?" Tobias asked as I stood on the deck, watching the port of Amaranthine shrink in the distance.

"I'll be fine," I assured him.

He looked dubious. But then, he'd seen Anders and I before the healers could get to us when we escaped in Orlais. "Well, me and Oghren got it all planned out," he said. "You two aren't leaving our sight on this trip. No walks in the park, got it?"

I laughed at that. "Tobias, we're going to _war_, not a bunch of meetings. Believe me, a walk in the park isn't on the schedule." He bit his nail, looking thoughtful. "It's all right to be scared," I said.

"Are you?"

"Of course I am," I said. "I'd be an idiot if I wasn't. I've just gotten used to hiding it. People get really nervous when they see me looking worried."

"Were you then?" he said after a moment. "I saw you, in the Alienage. You, Oghren, Loghain, and that elf… what's his name? The one who works for Alistair now."

"Zevran," I said.

"Right," he nodded. "Well, I watched you drive back the darkspawn. None of you looked scared."

"I was terrified," I said. "I knew there was a good chance I would die that day. But… you push it back. Focus on the moment." I glanced over at him. "You've seen more fighting than almost everyone in the order. You know what it's like."

"Yeah, but a bli—"

"It's not one yet," I said, cutting him off. "And watch your words when we're in public." A few people had taken notice of the Grey Wardens on the ship, I had already overheard someone musing aloud about why so many Wardens were traveling to Orlais lately.

"Right." He looked out across the water. "Well, you didn't _look_ scared," he said finally. "I thought it was pretty impressive. An elf out there fighting shoulder to shoulder with the Grey Wardens. And then I realized that there's only one group people hate more than elves," he poked me in the shoulder at that, snickering, "and they put _you_ in charge. After that I started telling everyone that some day I'd run off and join the Wardens, since any group that would actually put a mage in charge of things wouldn't have any problem with an elven pickpocket. Probably why the Haren dragged me in to meet you guys when you came to the alienage."

"I didn't know you were a pickpocket," I said.

He laughed and a moment later handed me back my purse. "See? Still got it."

"Nice job!" I said, genuinely impressed. I hadn't even seen him _move_.

Tobias laughed at that, turning to head back in as the air grew cooler. "Only you would get robbed and compliment the skill involved, boss. Only you."

* * *

To my surprise we were met in Jader by a royal escort. "Commander," the heavily perfumed man said, offering a strange salute, "the empress, she would like to meet with you."

I repressed a shudder. _You're a Warden_, I reminded myself. _Not simply Fereldan. _She had every reason to want to speak with the person who would be taking command of a massive military operation in her country. She couldn't try and invade Ferelden through me while I was in Orlais, after all. "Of course," I said, forcing a polite smile on my face.

He nodded. "Bring your command staff. We will ensure the rest of your people are taken to the Warden compound in Jader."

Once in the carriage I looked at her emissary. I wondered if he was actually nobility; even in the Orlesian court I couldn't imagine some minor functionary wearing so much jewelry and silk. Our own queen didn't wear so much. "What is the correct form of address for an empress?" I asked. The man looked amused. "Sorry, the Circle of Magi and the Grey Wardens don't put a lot of stress on teaching proper court manners."

"What do you call your king?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "I call him Alistair," I said. "I suspect the empress wouldn't appreciate being called Alistair, though. It wouldn't make much sense, either, since from all I know her given name is Celine."

"At the very least she'd probably be pretty confused," Anders added.

He actually laughed at that. "I was told you were amusing," he said, pointing his finger at Anders and myself, still chuckling. I looked at Anders and shrugged, he rolled his eyes almost imperceptibly. "You would call her 'Your Imperial Majesty,'" the man said

"Well then," I replied, "let's go meet Her Imperial Majesty."

* * *

_It went by fast, but this chapter spanned a little more than two years, in case you missed it. _  
_I posted the first chapter of my next story today. It's called Stone and Sky, and can be found at http:/ www. fanfiction. net/s /6655684/ 1/  
I don't think I'll do very much with it before AOA ends, but I wanted to get the first chapter up so I could, you know, pimp it out. ;)_

_Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers!_


	93. Every man wants a bath full of flowers

We were taken to what the courtier called the Empress's country home, which also went by a long name in Orlesian I didn't catch, or care much about. Her summer home was roughly twice the size of Vigil's Keep. "Big," Oghren muttered. I was glad I'd had new tunics made for the entire Ferelden branch of the order not long ago. They were made of the heaviest, best wool our bannorn had to offer, dyed royal blue with a griffin embroidered in silver threads on the front. I got them to keep us warmer in the harsh Ferelden winters, but they had the added benefit of looking both impressive and official.

We had all decided to wear them that day, although I'd never required anything close to a uniform. I suspected the others had the same idea as me, though: not to look the part of the barbarians from the south. It may not have been Orlesian silk or Antivan velvet, but all of Thedas knew Ferelden wool was second to none, and had the benefit of not looking absurd when combined with weapons. I was glad for out attire as we followed the man through an extensive garden. People in elaborate clothing were milling around, I noticed quite a few pointed at us as we passed, whispering behind raised hands.

"Stand up straight," I whispered to Tobias, who was looking extremely intimidated as he walked with his head down. "You're a _Grey Warden_. They're nothing but a bunch of useless, inbred layabouts. I wouldn't recruit the lot of them to shine your boots." He swallowed roughly and did as I said, offering me a small smile. While I knew not a single one of the nobles would actually _want _to be a Warden, that didn't make them any better than us. They might have fancy bloodlines, but we had talent and skill.

Reaching the doors the man looked at us. "Your hounds, shall I kennel them?" Loghain's story of how his dog had been taken by the Orlesians to breed with their small dogs and mistreated horribly in the process haunted me. While I didn't expect the empress to have our dogs _beaten_, I was very certain that their estimation of proper care and treatment would not even come remotely close to what I would consider appropriate.

Anders spoke up before I could refuse, though. "If you want to lose a hand," he said in a cheerful voice. "These aren't lapdogs. It's not wise to separate a mabari from his master. They react… badly."

The man sneered but said "of course." He left us in a small room, saying someone would collect us when the empress was ready. We sat on the chairs and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After an hour or two some nameless imbecile in a silk gown stuck her head through the door to tell us the empress was 'very busy' but would be ready for us any moment now. Two hours later a man came by to say the same thing, adding that several urgent issues had arisen to demand her attention.

"This is absurd," I finally said at some point between the fourth and fifth hour, jumping to my feet. "I don't know what she thinks, but we're not here on a social call! We have work to do." I had the distinct impression we were being asked to wait not because they were suddenly busy, but to show us our place in the scheme of things. Everything Leliana had told me about the Orlesian court was apparently proving true. I opened the door. "Well, come on," I said to the others.

After a moment of hesitation they followed me. "Where are we going?" Anders said.

"To the Warden compound," I said. "And then the front lines. Just like we planned."

"And the empress?" he asked.

"She's had plenty of time to talk to us, if it was important she could have. Keeping the darkspawn at bay _is_ important, though. More than sitting and waiting for someone who clearly doesn't seem to grasp the danger her country is facing." We walked quickly, remembering the way through the building, and cut across the grounds. From there it was only a quick walk to the Warden compound. Just as in Denerim it adjoined the royal residence. Good thing we left when we did, too… we barely arrived in time for dinner.

The Wardens made us quite comfortable for the evening and equipped us with horses and maps the next day. Several of their own would be joining us, replacing men and women who had been at the front lines for too long.

We set out after dawn, as planned. "Maker's ass," Anders muttered, looking at the maps when we came to the first crossroad. I guided my horse closer and glanced over his shoulder.

"I thought you spoke Orlesian?" I said.

"Not _that_ well," he replied.

I gestured to one of Alain's men, the one who had been translating between us and the others. "How are you with maps?" I asked.

"Fine," he said with a shrug. "Why?"

"I can read Orlesian, but not as well as a native speaker," Anders said, holding out the map. "I'd rather leave it to someone more fluent so we don't end up lost."

"That is not a problem," he said. "This is my second trip to the front, so I could probably manage even without the maps." He pointed the way and we turned, heading west.

When we broke for lunch I noticed several people on the road, riding like all the demons of the fade were on their heels. "Keep sharp," I called, pointing them out. The Orlesian Warden, whose name was Louis, translated for me quickly.

When they drew closer we stood, weapons at the ready. I had expected someone being chased, someone in fear of bandits, some kind of trouble… I _hadn't_ expected a man to bellow "_Commander Margaret!" _in a Fereldan accent as he approached. The man jumped off his horse as soon as he managed to stop it. He looked vaguely familiar, I tried to place his face as he bowed, first addressing me Bann Margaret, followed by a more abbreviated bow towards Anders, who he called Lord Anders. Needless to say, that made both of us snicker.

"Have we met?" I said finally, unable to figure out who he was.

"Just once," he said. "At His Majesty's coronation." I waited for him to go on. "Ser Martin," he said quickly. "Ferelden's ambassador to Orlais."

That would explain the accent, then. And why he was aware of my collection of titles. "Well, Ser ambassador," I said. "Is there a reason you were driving your horse half to death to catch up to us?" He inclined his head and I followed him, stepping a distance away from the others.

"You _skipped out_ on a meeting with the _Empress of Orlais_," he hissed. "Are you _mad_? People do _not_ stand up Empress Celine!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Empress Celine needs an hourglass," I said. "We waited. For several hours, in fact. I'm not sure what game she was playing, but I have more important things to do than warm a chair while she wastes my time."

He groaned. "Do you know the kind of trouble this will cause?"

"No," I said. "But… I don't really _care_, either. My job is more important." He groaned, rubbing his face. "Look," I said after a moment, "do you _know_ why we're here?"

"I have no bloody idea," he snapped. "Do you think the empress tells me _anything_? I'm the ambassador from the 'dog nation!' That's what they call us, the prancing fools." I snickered. Maybe he wasn't so bad… for a politician.

"Well, do you _want_ to know?"

He paled. "I'm… not going to like this, am I?"

"No," I said. "But if you want, I can tell you. It seems important that you know, since so many Wardens from Ferelden have been crossing the border so frequently." He gestured for me to go on, looking resigned. "The darkspawn have found an Old God, we're trying to keep them from getting to it."

"Maker's breath," he moaned. "_Already?"_

"Already," I said. "So… can you see why playing _Her Imperial Majesty's_ little power games doesn't really interest me?"

"I can," he agreed. "She knows this?" I nodded and he rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about 'idiotic mincing Orlesians.'

"So what did she want to talk to me for anyways?" I asked.

"Probably the same things she tries to find out from me," he said. "Is King Alistair's marriage a happy one, are we recovering successfully from the blight, how likely is Ferelden to split from the Chantry…? Andraste's sword, I'm surprised she doesn't ask me which of our borders is the least defended, it's all so bloody obvious." He sighed. "You know they think we're all a bunch of barbaric idiots. Someone here was surprised to find out I could _read_."

I snorted. "Well even I'm not politically dense enough to tell her anything like that. Although I might wax poetic about how blissfully happy the royal couple are, and how absolutely charming the princes are."

"I assumed as much," he said. "You wouldn't have survived this long by being a drooling fool, despite what the Orlesian court may think about the barbarians." He offered me a smile then and I couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said. "So that's it? She delayed us for hours so she could try and get information about _Ferelden_ from me?"

"Basically," he sighed.

"She does know that, in addition to being a Grey Warden, I'm also a member of the Ferelden nobility, yes?"

"She does. That's why she figured you would have information that could be of use."

"Lovely," I grumbled. "Well… tell her whatever you want as my excuse. Since all I'm inclined to say has a few too many profanities for polite company." I sighed. "So it was just some… game?"

He nodded. "Show the barbarian hero where they stand in Orlais, that sort of thing. And, of course, because the Chantry wouldn't have it any other way. They're enraged you were even allowed over the border."

"Were they now?" I said. "You have pen and paper?"

"Something tells me I'll regret this," he said, striding over to his horse and reaching into a saddlebag.

"Probably," I agreed, kneeling on the road and uncapping the ink.

_Your Imperial Majesty  
I deeply regret being unable to accommodate your hectic schedule and meet with you upon my arrival in Orlais. As you may know, however, I am working to prevent the darkspawn from unleashing a nightmare you cannot even begin to imagine upon your nation. I could not let my important work be delayed. Of course I'm sure you agree that my timely arrival at the front lines is vastly preferable to an archdemon reducing the famed spires of the Grand Cathedral of Val Royeaux to rubble.  
The honorable ambassador Ser Martin has informed me that the Chantry evidently takes issue to you allowing the only two living Grey Wardens in Thedas that have faced an archdemon head on and survived into your nation. I would strongly urge you to consider which is more important: keeping the Divine with her irrational prejudices happy, or keeping your people alive. _

I paused, looking at the letter and trying to determine the proper closing. Snickering, I dipped the pen into the ink once more and added

_May the Maker bless and keep you,  
Bann Margaret, Commander of the Grey, Ferelden_

"Really, Ser," the ambassador said, glancing over my shoulder. "You manage to commit blasphemy in one sentence and offer her the Maker's blessings in the next?"

"Where did I commit blasphemy?" I said. "The Divine _is_ being irrational. Magic exists to serve man, right? So… let me go kill some darkspawn with it. That's a rather valuable service, wouldn't you say?" He just sighed. "Wax?"

I handed him back the recapped ink and pen, accepting the gold bar. "I think I have a flint and candle," he muttered, digging through his bag as I folded the letter.

"Not necessary," I said, casting a quick fire spell and slamming my ring into the subsequent puddle, cooling it with another spell. "There you go."

"Great," he muttered.

I stood up from where I'd been kneeling on the dirt road. "And ambassador?" I added. "Tell the Divine that if a templar so much as _frowns _at me while I'm here she might as well start building pyres for her people."

"Oh, well sure," he said. "That's just what I want to do. Threaten the _Divine_. Anything else? Want me to wet on someone? Call the empress fat?"

"That wasn't a threat," I said. "It would be more of a… warning. You can keep it to yourself if you want. I just thought she would like to know the reason why they might start to turn up dead."

He sighed. "Just _try_ and not start any wars," he said. "And tell my brother I said hello when you get back to Ferelden."

"Your brother?"

The ambassador looked briefly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said. "Martin _Bryland_. I'm Leonas' youngest."

"Oh, right," I said, now seeing the resemblance. It made sense that the ambassador post went to the non-inheriting child of a major noble family, it would keep their support in Alistair's corner. "I will."

He paused to compliment our dogs before taking his leave, which earned giggles from some of the Orlesians. I waved politely as he set off for Jader.

"And what was that all about?" Anders looked amused.

"Her Imperial Majesty is annoyed she couldn't try and get me to spill some vital information on Ferelden while simultaneously making a statement about how insignificant we barbarians are."

Anders sighed. "You know, it's tough to be politically neutral when the political leaders all but spit on us."

"And the Divine," I added. "She's not happy we're here."

"Big shock," he said, hand drifting to the knife at his belt, a cold look in his eyes.

"It's all right," I said, wishing I hadn't even told him. "She's just mad because the Wardens outsmarted her. She knows she's no match for us."

He didn't look very reassured.

We split off the Imperial Highway after a night in Val Firmin. I was amazed to see even the cheapest inns of Orlais had bath oils and flowers in the rooms. "Even _I _think this is a bit much," Anders laughed, looking at the shelf of bath oils.

"Really?" I said, selecting one with a woodsy scent. "I figured you would want a bit of luxury before we spend six months with nothing but a tent and camp baths."

"Please don't tell me you're going native," he said as I heated the water. Anders checked that the door was locked and a chair firmly wedged under the knob for perhaps the tenth time that evening before sitting back on the bed. I could hear the dogs snore from behind a screen the inn had provided. It seemed to alternately disturb and amuse the Orlesians that we didn't allow our dogs to be tied up outside for the night. "Now, never let it be said that I'm a man without a proper appreciation for decadence. But really, the flowers in the room are a bit much. This place was cheaper than the Crown and Lion back home. I'm pretty sure I overheard one of the rats complaining about the roaches!"

"Don't like the flowers?"

"I'd prefer they spend the money getting rid of the rats. Or the roaches. Or the fleas. At least one of the three."

I shrugged, grabbing the flowers from out of the vase. With a tearing sound I yanked the petals off, dumping them in my bath, and tossed the mangled stems to the floor. "Problem solved," I said, pulling my tunic off and tossing it at him.

"Hey!" he said as the wool hit him in the face. I laughed, dropping my armor to the floor and kicking off my boots.

"Let me see that shirt," he said, looking at me in my leggings and the off-white linen I wore to keep my armor from rubbing against my skin. With a shrug I tossed it to him, shivering briefly before I unlaced my leggings and dumped them to the floor.

"Hey!" He had cast a quick fire spell, burning the shirt.

"It was necessary," Anders replied.

"If you wanted to see me without a shirt on you only had to ask. Not start burning my clothes!"

"It was _necessary_," he repeated. "That shirt was a crime against fabric. It was more rips and bloodstains than shirt."

I sighed. "We went over this before. I wear it _under_ my _armor_. You know, the stuff I have on when I'm fighting darkspawn? Should it be covered in fine embroidery and ribbons?"

"No, but it should be a solid piece of fabric."

"And now what will I wear under my armor?"

"You have three others with you," he said. I made a face, not able to argue. Anders had packed for me, after all. I climbed into the hot water, ignoring him. "Are you going to pout now?"

"I'm soaking in a tub with bath oil and rose petals. How in the Maker's name would I even be _able_ to pout?" I asked, smirking. "I've even got wine! Lucky for you I'm not singing. You're just jealous that when my bath is done there won't be any rose petals for you."

"Yes, that's it exactly," he said. "Every man wants to take a bath full of flowers. You've got me."

I laughed as he fell back onto the bed, paging through a book.

After soaking for longer than necessary the water started to get cold. I cast another spell.

"You're not done yet?" Anders asked.

"Nooooo," I said. "This is fantastic. I may stay here all night." Anders grumbled, muttering something I didn't quite catch. "What's that?"

He sighed. "Well, I'd like to get clean at some point," he said. "_And_ I've also been waiting for you to join me. Over here. On the _bed_. The last bed we'll have for _months_, I should add."

"I will," I said. "Eventually." He groaned, falling back to the bed with annoyance. "You know what's nice about this bath?"

"That you're hogging it?" he offered. "And ignoring your poor husband in favor of it?"

"That it's got to be one of the biggest tubs I've ever seen. I mean, you could easily fit two, maybe even three people in here."

He propped up on his elbows, looking at me. "Really?"

"Yep."

I laughed as Anders hopped to his feet, shedding clothes as he walked over. "Move your legs," he said. I lifted them from the water, pointing my feet at the ceiling. "You are wicked," he said after getting in, smirking as my legs settled back into the water on either side of him.

"Probably," I agreed. "I mean, I've been _trying_ to get you in here with me for ages. I'd hoped you would figure it out on your own."

"Sweetheart, the day I, or anyone else, figures out how your mind works will be a _very_ scary day indeed. Next time just do something obvious or, better yet, _tell_ me."

I made a face at him but, since I knew he was kidding, didn't really care much. Especially since Anders leaned forward, one hand dipping below the water, a moment later. Shifting in the water, I moved closer to I was sitting on his lap, legs around his waist. "See," he said, hand still busy between my legs, "this is exactly the kind of obvious statement that will always get my attention."

"Noted," I gasped, moving my hips in time with his fingers.

When my hand joined his under the water he gasped. Anders made a rumbling sound in his throat as I began to stroke and grabbed my hair with his free hand, pulling my head back. I struggled not to fall backwards as he first kissed, and then bit, my shoulders and throat. Unable to maintain my balance I settled for falling forward into him.

"Sorry," I giggled as I fell on him.

Anders glanced up at me, smirking before capturing one of my nipples with his mouth. "Never apologize for something like that," he said as he switched to the other side, which was at almost perfect mouth-level since I'd shifted position.

Unable to wait any longer, I braced my hands on the edge of the tub to raise myself up in the water, attempting to align myself to him with just my hips. Finally, after several tries, I had the right angle.

Anders grabbed my hips before I could slide down. "What are you doing?" he asked with a grin.

"What do you think?"

"Did I say I was ready?" Judging by the hitch in his voice he was as ready as me, if not more. "So impatient," he added. I could feel him pressing against me and, if I wasn't mistaken, he moved his hips up just a little bit while I whimpered with frustration. "Don't… move…" he said, releasing his grip on my hips.

"Anders," I said, arms shaking. "I can't—"

"Sure you can," he said, sounding out of breath as he ran his hands across my chest, brushing his palms and thumbs gently across my nipples before squeezing them in his fingers. I gasped, arms giving out briefly. "Don't rush me," he said, grabbing me by the hair. I groaned, as far as deterrents went that was anything but effective. He knew that too, though.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as his hands returned to their slow exploration of my body. I could see him try and suppress a shudder. Forcing myself to keep my voice sounding contrite I added "I'll do what you say" a moment later, biting my lip to hide my smirk.

Anders groaned hearing that, his hips pushing slightly higher, causing me to gasp. "G— good," he stuttered. I gasped as his hands passed across my stomach and hips, down the outside of my legs and up the inside, nails scraping along my inner thighs. All the while I could feel him, rock hard, _almost_ inside me. I had no idea how he could stand it, but Anders always had more willpower than me.

When his fingers focused their attention between my legs again I started to move my hips. He stopped rubbing, pulling his hand away. "Sorry," I gasped again. He smirked and resumed that quick back and forth slide of his fingertips. I groaned, head falling backwards.

"Look at me," Anders ordered. He smiled when I did, fingers moving faster. I could feel tension building in me, even my feet curling up in the once hot but now merely warm water. My arms shaking, I fought to keep steady. Another of those subtle shifts of his hips sent me crashing over the edge, shrieking his name as I dropped down into the bath, water splashing out and across the floor of our room. I shuddered again, feeling him inside me, and Anders groaned out my name.

He wrapped his arms around me and we both began to finally move. "Love you," I whispered in his ear. He reached up, turning my head so we could kiss. Every motion sent more water out of the tub, but neither of us cared.

When we finally finished, shaking and digging our nails into each others' backs, there was more water on the floor than in the bath and someone was pounding on the wall.

Our eyes met and we both dissolved into laughter. "Sorry," I shouted to whoever was on the other side.

"You should have saved the apology," Anders said. I gave him a curious look as we stood, climbing out of the tepid water. "Well, the last proper bath we'll have for months was nice. But we still have the last proper _bed_ we'll have for months ahead of us." He passed me a towel and, once his hands were free, cast a rejuvenation spell on me, grinning all the while.

"You're a bad man," I said, giggling as I dried off.

"Oh, I know," he said, falling back to the mattress. "I always figured that was how I got your attention in the first place."

* * *

The next morning we headed towards the very oppressive looking Gamordan Peaks. "You know," Anders said as our group slowly made for the mountain pass, "I don't think I ever imagined I'd be this far from home."

"Me neither," I agreed. "I always knew it was possible. Blight, war, just being reassigned. But I never actually _expected_ it."

He moved his horse closer to mine and dropped his voice. "To be honest, I feel better now that we're out of the cities. They just don't look as pretty as they used to. But…"

"But?"

"But I'm not looking forward to six months of living in a tent," he said. "I must be getting soft in my old age."

I laughed at that. "You're far from old."

"I'll be forty in a couple years," he countered.

"Oooh, grandpa!" I said with a smirk. "I better start looking for someone younger."

"That's not what you said last night," he replied, eyebrow raised.

"Probably not what I'll be saying tonight, either," I added. "Although it'll be at a much lower volume since our walls are made of canvas now."

"Hmmm," was all Anders said, smirking.

The mountains grew closer each day. I was surprised to find ourselves in them one day, a change from flatlands that was so gradual I had barely noticed. While the Frostbacks shot straight from the ground like a giant wall of rock, these began as small rolling hills, slowly growing larger until suddenly the hills became mountains.

The pass was shockingly narrow, perhaps no more than ten feet across at some places. We made it through easily, of course, but the entire time I was looking up, wondering if one shift of the snow above could trap us on the other side.

"Oghren," I called back. He guided his horse closer to the head of the line. "Did the dwarven empire ever extend this far?"

He looked thoughtful, removing one hand from the reigns of his horse to stroke his beard. "Now that I don't rightly know," he said. "The Shaperite will tell you we extended as far below ground as your folks did above ground, but… that's not quite fact."

"No?"

"It's probably close," he said. "But it ain't like surface cities formed a mirror of the old thaigs. Sometimes they did, but not always. We were in places you weren't, you were in places we weren't. The Shaperite just likes to talk it up."

"Commander?" I glanced back. Louis, one of the Orlesian wardens, was looking at us. "I may be able to assist."

"Please do," I said.

"Near Mount-de-glace, deep in the south, we found what Alain said was an old barrier door. He told us it was identical to one he had seen while visiting you, in fact."

"Old, then," I mused. "Our barrier door dates back to the first blight." I paused, thinking. "But… it was to hold back the spread of the darkspawn. Not to protect the surface."

"I don't know," he said. "That is just what we were told."

"We may be taking a trip into the Deep Roads," I mused. Anders groaned next to me. "I want to at least get as far in to get a _name_. With that we can stop at Orzammar on the way home, see what the Shaperite might know."

"I know no one has had a chance to mount an expedition yet," Louis said.

"We should _make_ the time," I replied. "We get a name, we can get a map underground. We get a map, maybe we can find this thing and kill it."

We actually had to camp in the mountain pass that night, high rock walls on either side of us. If anyone else had tried to get through they would have run straight over our tents. But we had actually continued until after dark hoping to find a wider area with no such luck. As it was the only way we got our tents up was because Anders and I, with the help of the Orlesian mage in our group, managed to illuminate the entire campsite with magic.

"I cannot _wait_ until we get to the main camp," Anders muttered as I crawled into the tent. I had been trying not to wake him, and clearly failed. I'd wanted a mage on each watch shift, since the cliff walls made it far darker than even an average night. If there was any problem the light a mage's staff could provide would be more than helpful: it could be lifesaving. That put him on first shift and the young woman from Orlais on third. I took the much-loathed second shift.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's all right," he said, rolling to his side and curling up against my back, arm around my waist. Moments later the sound of his regular breathing told me Anders was already asleep.

That, it turned out, would be our last night of uninterrupted sleep. We began encountering small bands of darkspawn several times a day, and getting surprised by them at night. After four days of this Tobias stumbled over to me as I made breakfast. "I feel like shit," he muttered.

"You hurt?" I looked him over, hoping he hadn't forgotten to report an injury after battle.

"No, I'm _tired_," he said. "I haven't had more than three hours of sleep a night for days!" He actually yawned in my face at that, hastily apologizing after. "How are you even awake? How do you all manage?"

I glanced around. Anders, Oghren and I were the only three who looked _awake_. The rest looked about as bad as Tobias. No, actually they looked much _worse_. Two were snoring openly, leaning shoulder to shoulder. I sighed.

"I've done this before," I said. "Fighting all day, barely sleeping. Easy to get used to it again."

"I hope I get used to it soon," he said. I squeezed his shoulder and sent him to sit down.

After another quick glance around I clapped my hands for attention. "Everyone!" I called. "We're making really good time, so I think we can afford to take a day and relax."

"Is… is that wise, Commander?" Louis said, yawning halfway through. "They're expecting us…"

"I'd sooner cut off one of my feet than go into battle with you lot at my side right now," I said. "Get some rest or we'll all end up killed. That's an order."

He glanced around at the others and nodded, blushing to see his fellow Wardens sleeping right on the ground by the fire. "Understood," Louis said. "I suppose you got used to this life during the blight."

I sighed. "I did… but I barely sleep at all anymore, even when things are normal. I'll just take one or two nights every couple weeks to catch up on rest."

"I used to think she was mad, going to sleep halfway through the night and waking at dawn. I'm starting to get the same way, though."

Oghren looked at Anders and laughed. "Ages I thought she just kept you up half the night for fun, not that you freaks didn't actually need to sleep. I'm getting just as bad, though. Felsi yells at me to come to bed, and I'm still up and dressed before she's even blinked in the morning." He grinned proudly. "I learned how to make breakfast for the nugget."

I covered my smile with my hand. 'The nugget,' his eight year old daughter who shared my name, had once confided that her daddy could only cook burnt oatmeal, but she ate it since he was so proud of himself. She was a clever girl. Sometimes a bit too clever for her own good, if the stories I'd heard about the trouble she and Jowan's daughter got into was any indication.

"This must be what we all have to look forward to," Louis mused, stumbling towards his tent. With a start I wondered if that was the case. I tried to remember back- Duncan did seem to always be awake in the brief time we traveled together. If he slept it was after I was out, and he woke before I came to. None of the Orlesian wardens looked as though they could be more than a summer or two past their twentieth year, though. They were all clearly new recruits.

"Leave your blades out, we can sharpen them for you," I said. We'd need _something_ to do while they napped.

"You think that's true?" Anders was musing several hours later as we worked with whetstones and silverite. I was surprised to see their default gear wasn't as nice as our dragonbone blades, but wasn't about to say anything. After all, not every order was led by people who had multiple high dragon kills under their belts and a warehouse full of bones, scales and hide to show for it. Master Wade often asked if I was personally trying to make dragons go extinct once more.

"Maybe," I said. "Although you two only have a year and a half or so on Tobias, and he's snoring away."

"Am not," came a voice. He was crawling out of his tent, looking much more cheerful. "Just needed a bit of a nap." He dropped down to sit with us, helping sharpen weapons. "Not sure why I bothered. So many darkspawn around here I might as well be watching them perform _Dane and the Werewolf_ when I close my eyes."

Oghren met my glance and grinned. I returned the expression. "Just like the old days," he said with a chuckle.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	94. Can't it be all three?

The main camp at the front was far less, well, _camp-like _than I'd expected. Set up in a clearing surrounded by caverns and passages cut into the rock, I could see one face of the stone was visibly splashed with a horrifying amount of dried blood. That must have been the rock separating us from the old god.

There were tents, of course, but most were wood framed and set on risers, not the simple canvas structures we had been using on our trip. If anything, I was reminded of the King's camp at Ostagar. Alain grabbed me by the shoulders when we arrived. "Thank you," he said. "I'm so glad you're here."

"You should have said something sooner," I told him. "Two years of this!" I sighed. "No, _I _should have said something sooner. I didn't want to come back here, but I have duties, same as all of us. The darkspawn don't care if I have bad memories."

He shrugged. "It wasn't just me. My second in command and I have been trading off…"

"Well we can all do that," I said. "You know you're not alone here. There's more than enough Wardens in Thedas that we can share command. Everyone else is doing only a few months at a time, we shouldn't do any different."

He nodded, still looking exhausted, and led us over to a tent with one open side. In it was a table and several maps spread across the top. "It's quiet now," Alain said. "Every few days the darkspawn will make a push at us. Small groups, less than fifty." I nodded. "Less frequently they make larger assaults. Several hundred at a time. Perhaps once a month?" He shrugged. "They don't exactly follow a schedule."

"Casualties?" I asked, sitting across from him.

"Low, among the Wardens," he said. "We've only lost ten over the last two years."

"And the troops?"

He chuckled, handing me a few sheaths of paper. "You'll be pleased to know Ferelden's forces have done far better than the empress' men. The greatest losses are to corruption, not injury, though."

"You offering to put them through the Joining?"

"No," he said quietly. "How could we? Too many outsiders around. They would wonder how we can cure the taint, they would wonder why some are never seen again…" Alain shook his head. "It just isn't possible to keep our secrets. That and…" he glanced around, confirming we were alone, before dropping his voice further and adding, "they're just not very _good_. They aren't _bad_, but these are not Chevalier or knights, just common soldiers. The majority simply are not Warden caliber. That, too, is why their losses have been worse."

"Makes sense," I said. "Funeral services?"

"We have a priest here," he said. "She's… I don't know. She's around somewhere. Her and the templar hide in their tents most of the day." He gave me a sardonic glance. "Praying for our souls, no doubt."

"You're _kidding_ me," Anders said. "A _templar_ here?"

Oh good. "Any… problems?"

"None," he said. "When fighting begins they retreat to one of their tents, the templar guarding her. We told them both how darkspawn will capture women. It was to be safe, but has the added benefit of keeping them out of our way."

"What about…" I held up my hand, glancing around.

"I've had no problems. I suspect that they were told to look the other way when it comes to any Grey Wardens. It ends badly for them when they cross us."

No one could argue with that. After a quick meal from the mess tent, Alain had everyone gathered together so he could let them know he would be handing over command to me. He stood on a table so they could all see him, pulling me up so I could be seen as well.

The Ferelden Wardens who saw me waved, some coming over to say hello. Most of the Wardens, and the Ferelden troops, were whispering and looking in my direction. The Orlesian troops looked disinterested. Intentionally disinterested, if I wasn't mistaken. "I am sure many of you know Commander Margaret, even if only by reputation," he said to the group. "Believe me when I say there is no one better suited to lead us at this dark time." He spoke for longer than I expected, stressing how he expected everyone to show me respect. I noticed he glanced at the Orlesian troops while speaking and wondered if I should expect problems. I felt a pulling at my mind while Alain spoke. I noticed his words briefly faltered and we exchanged a glance. "Commander?" he whispered with a small smile on his face, clearly wanting me to take charge.

I closed my eyes, focusing as the Wardens began to ready weapons, the normal troops shifting uneasily on their feet. "Darkspawn incoming," I yelled, pointing at a gap in the stone. "Form a half circle around the opening, I want healers and Wardens to spread out. Someone falls drag them out of the way and do what you can."

With that I jumped off the table and took off at a run, my small group close behind. "Do we have dogs?" I shouted to no one in particular. One of the Orlesian men laughed, stopping when I shot him a glare. "I'm glad someone finds this amusing," I snapped. He flushed, looking down.

"Ser? We've got about fifty hounds with us," one of the Ferelden men said. I quickly told him where he should have the men with dogs line up before barking orders for the archers and crossbowmen.

Setting the mages to conjure a storm, I waited and tried to figure out how many there were. "Two hundred?" Anders said next to me as he finished his spell. Mine was already done, snow whipping around the cavern opening.

"Maybe three," I said.

They began to break through, I kept my hand up, despite everyone's obvious desire to surge forward. "Hold!" I screamed, seeing one man break the line. He ignored me and ran headlong into the storm, collapsing instantly. "Idiot!"

A healer tried to go after him. "You go in and you die, too," I shouted, grabbing her by the collar. She wasn't a Warden, she was with the Ferelden army. "When I say hold you'd better damn well hold!"

"Ser," she said, voice shaking as she nodded.

"Get him when the storm clears, but I suspect it's already too late," I said, returning to my position. The snow had begun to clear. I called for ranged attacks. A moment later I sent in the dogs. I couldn't help but smile as the Orlesians watched, they were clearly amazed to see mabari take down darkspawn with a snap of their massive jaws.

I finally dropped my arm and everyone ran forward, shouting all the while. Between spells, archers, and dogs we'd eliminated more than a third of the sizable group. I glanced around, looking for the more difficult targets. Spotting an ogre I began to make my way across the battlefield, shooting off lightning and ice as I went, making sure nothing in my direct path was left alive. The ogre had a soldier in each massive fist, both screaming. I cast lightning and jumped onto his back, attempting to climb. If I froze him I would freeze them, too. Feeling my daggers sink in he dropped one man, who stumbled for a moment before picking up his sword and charging again. "Tendons!" I screamed. "Slice his tendons." The man looked at me blankly and began hacking away at the ogre's shins. Fortunately being attacked on two sides was enough to completely break the ogre's concentration; he dropped the other man as well and_ he_ understood me. With a howl the beast fell to his knees, ankles no longer able to support his bulk. I took advantage of its distraction to lean across his shoulder, slitting his throat. The first man said something to me in Orlesian, I hadn't the faintest idea what it was but I gestured for him to go to the healer's tent. I sent the Ferelden soldier on after him and returned to the fight.

At this point it was just picking out the stragglers. Walking through I noticed a few darkspawn on the ground twitching. I dispatched them with my daggers, not wanting to waste mana on something so minor. A few genlocks charged me; they were easily frozen and shattered. An emissary hit me with lightning. I dropped to my knees from the pain and turned, casting the same spell back at it, followed quickly by ice. Climbing to my feet before he could shake off my spell, I charged forward, lopping his head off with both blades. At the same time a hurlock came up behind me, sinking a blade into my side. Cursing, I spun and froze him, shattering the darkspawn with a kick.

It looked like most of the darkspawn were down. I walked around, hand to my side, directing healers where necessary and checking on people. Isolde padded over to me while I walked, I rested my hand on the top of her head and groaned. I could see Anders, Tobias and Oghren giving orders, gesturing for people to be carried to the healer's tent or, in the case of Anders, healing them on the spot.

Alain stumbled over to me. "Big group," he said.

"You too?" I asked, pointing to where he was holding one hand clamped around the opposite arm.

"Unfortunately," he replied. "I would prefer to make sure the serious injuries are seen to. But… I can't do much without my hands." With that he let go of his arm, blood pouring from the wound, and cast a quick spell. "May I?" he asked. I removed my hand and opened the side buckles of my armor. I sighed with relief when the wound closed.

"How is it looking?" I asked, gesturing around. "Any casualties?"

"Two of the empress' men, one of your king's." He sighed. "One of the Antivan Wardens is out of commission. Probably for good." I raised my eyebrows. "Lost his arm. Anders is with him now."

"Andraste's blood," I groaned.

Alain sighed. "There is always a need for people who know the Warden secrets," he said. "Marko will make sure there is a place for him. Organizing joinings, seeking out recruits…"

I nodded, although I knew he wouldn't have simply been tossed out in the street. The two of us walked towards the healers' tent. I could see Anders sitting next to a low cot, speaking with the man who sat on it. Getting closer I could see his injury. He gave us a sheepish grin as Alain and I walked over. "Sorry… I guess I took myself out of the fight for good."

"Only off the battlefield, not out of the fight," Alain said. "A Warden is a Warden for life, brother."

We sat with the man for some time, offering ideas of ways he could continue to serve as a Warden. I wasn't sure what Marko would have him do, but really, Alain and I only wanted to reassure him that he wasn't _useless. _That was, quite clearly, his biggest fear.

Over the next few months we saw many more injuries that were beyond the scope of healing magic. Anders could heal most any injury, but he couldn't cause something to grow back anew. Missing limbs, ears, eyes... that seemed to eliminate as many people as death did. Our own group wasn't immune from them, either. I spent most of a night consoling a recent recruit from Highever, promising her she would always have a place with the Wardens in Ferelden despite losing her foot. She was a clever girl, and completely literate. I could think of many ways someone like that, someone who was already aware of our secrets, could be useful. We still needed an archivist, after all. She brightened at the idea.

During an attack late one night I heard I familiar voice make an unfamiliar sound. Quickly finishing off the genlock that had been attacking me, I spun on my heel to see Oghren standing with his hand covering one eye, an arrow protruding from between his fingers. Screaming, I cast lightning at the archer who had been targeting him and began hovering over the warrior while shouting for Anders, taking out any darkspawn that came close to us.

"Shit," Anders muttered.

"Well thanks, sparkelfingers," Oghren replied.

He ordered Oghren to lie down and told me to keep them clear. "Stop jiggling it!" I heard him snap.

"Well get it out of there," Oghren replied, voice strained.

"That's all of them," someone called. I spun and dropped to kneel at Oghren's other side.

"I'm going to put you to sleep," Anders said.

"Like stone you are!" Oghren snapped.

"You won't stop _blinking_," Anders said. "I have to. I can't let that go any further in!"

Oghren protested but was cut off when I cast the spell. "He can yell at me later," I said. Glancing over at Anders I added "Right? There'll be… later?"

"Absolutely," Anders said. "As long as it doesn't go further _in_ he'll be fine. Well, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Now is not the time, Maggie," he said. "Here, hold his eye open, like this," Anders demonstrated and I replaced his hand with my own. "Now _don't move_."

It took all my nerve not to pull back when Anders slowly removed the arrow, casting spells all the while. The _noise_ it made turned my stomach, and seeing Oghren unconscious and covered in blood horrified me. He worked slowly. Removing the arrow a fraction, healing where it had been, pulling it a little further out, healing the empty space again. A lesser healer wouldn't have been able to target so precisely, but that wasn't a concern for him.

"All right," he said after an agonizingly long time. "It's out." Anders cast several more spells before telling me I could let go. "Lyrium?"

"Out," I said, casting a rejuvenation spell on him. He returned his full attention to Oghren. "That's it," Anders said. "The best I can do. I saved the eye… but I don't know if he'll actually be able to _see _out of it." I looked down at him, unconscious on the stone ground. The black part of his eye was enormous, almost entirely hiding the green. After checking to make sure no one needed either of us we carried the still-unconscious Oghren into his tent so that, if he was half-blind, he wouldn't need to stumble through the camp in front of everyone. Anders had insisted bright light would be painful, at least at first; I held my staff, keeping it barely light enough to see, while Anders sat on the floor near him.

Oghren groaned as Anders cast a spell to wake him. "You better not put me to sleep," he muttered, before adding "oh."

"Blame me," I said quickly. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Oghren said, swinging into a sitting position on his cot. "Like noting ever happened. Why is it so dark?"

"You had an _arrow_ in your _eye_!" Anders said. "It's dark because I don't want to blind you." Anders looked at Oghren's eyes again now that he was awake. "Cover the other eye," he said. "Tell me what you see?" He held up three fingers.

"Nothing, since we're sitting in the dark," Oghren said. I winced. I could see him clearly, and my nightvision was nothing special. Certainly not as good as a dwarf who had adapted to living underground.

"More light, Maggie," Anders said. "Slowly. Oghren, tell me as soon as you can tell there's a difference."

I sat nervously, waiting for him to respond as the tent gradually became brighter. Finally when it was nearing the intensity of the midafternoon sun he spoke up. "Three fingers?" Oghren said, sounding unsure. "It's blurry."

"Well, better than I hoped," Anders said. "Go ahead and uncover your other eye."

"Oh hey," Oghren said. "There you are." He groaned, taking a swig from a flask at his belt. "So I'm down to one eye," he said. "Guess I made it too long without causing any permanent damage to myself. Well, besides the liver."

"Not entirely," Anders insisted. "And you can see _something_ now. That's really good. It may get better with time."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself there," Oghren said, snorting.

"I wish I could be," Anders said, sounding defeated. "Honestly, I'm amazed I could save your eye at all."

Oghren leaned forward, patting his knee. "I doubt any of those guys could do half as much," he said, gesturing towards the healers' tent." He sighed deeply and moved to rub his eyes, yanking his hand back at the last second. "Probably shouldn't do that, huh?"

"Try not to for a couple days," Anders said. "But really, as long as you're not jabbing your finger in there it should be fine."

He nodded, and rested his chin on his folded hands, elbows propped on his knees. "So…" he said after a moment, looking embarrassed. "How bad is it?"

Anders gave him a confused glance. "You're mostly blind in one eye. That's how bad," he said. "I mean, it didn't go any deeper than that."

"Not _that_," Oghren said, cheeks red above his beard. "I mean… how's it look. It's not all hanging out or anything, is it? Don't want to get home and scare the nugget. Or Felsi."

"It's fine," Anders said.

Oghren rolled his eyes and turned to me. "Do that again!" Anders ordered.

"What?"

"Roll your eyes at me!" Oghren gave him a confused look but did what he said. "That's fantastic," Anders said with a nod. "The injured eye is still moving properly. Very good." He actually looked incredibly pleased for the first time that evening.

"Great," Oghren muttered. "Maggie, how's it look? Big gory wound? My kid going to run screaming?"

"Honestly?" I said.

"No, lie to me," he replied with a snort.

"It looks like you've got one eye that's dark brown," I said. "Since the black part is bigger."

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it," I repeated. "It looks fine. Really." He looked dubious so I stood up. "Come on," I said. "I've got a mirror with my things. See for yourself."

We left his tent as Tobias was running over. Seeing us he gaped at Oghren. "You're kidding me," he said.

"What?" Oghren demanded, giving me a dirty look and putting a hand to his face. "What's wrong?"

"You got shot in the _face_ with an arrow," he said. "I saw you there, arrow in the eye. And now you're _fine? _What kind of crazy luck do you have? How did you manage that?"

Oghren relaxed. "Heh, well, what can I say. Takes more than one arrow to bring down the pride of Orzammar."

"I guess so," Tobias said. "Just… don't do that again." To Oghren's surprise Tobias gave the dwarf a hug before saying goodnight and walking off to his own tent, where one of women with the Antivan Wardens followed him in.

"How does that kid manage it?" Oghren mused, seeing the same thing. "Everywhere we go…"

"I used to be like that," Anders said. I looked over at him. "Not that I miss it," he added quickly. Rolling my eyes I quickly retrieved my mirror from the tent and passed it to Oghren.

"Everything's kind of… hazy, to one side," he said, looking at it.

"That'll pass quickly," Anders said. "Even if your vision doesn't get better the other side will compensate."

With a sigh Oghren handed it back to me, I slipped the small bit of polished metal into my pocket. "Not too bad," he said. "Felsi'll have my head, but she knew she was getting a warrior when we got hitched." He wiped some of the dried blood off his face with a rag. "So… you still have a job for a guy with only one good eye?"

Anders snorted. "Judging by how you swing that axe if you actually start using _one_ of your eyes that'll be an improvement." Anders paused, looking thoughtful. "Although with the way you seem to manage to drench yourself in blood every time it's no wonder you fight with your eyes closed."

"Well _sorry_," Oghren said. "Not all of us can prance into battle in a pretty dress and fight with a stick from ten feet away."

"You just wish you had the legs to pull of robes."

"True, yours are almost as nice as Maggie's. I think she's got a bit more muscle on her, though."

"I'd wonder why you're looking at my wife's legs, but they _are_ at eye level for you…"

"Oh no, it ain't her _legs_ that are at eye level," Oghren said, laughing as he made a crude gesture.

As they continued to bicker I slipped off to find Louis, who had been translating for me since we arrived, and see how the non-Warden forces faired.

* * *

A week barely passed without at least one casualty, and we never made it out of larger fights without multiple deaths. I shouldn't have been surprised. The numbers dead after the battle of Denerim were staggering, and this was like fighting the battle of Denerim over and over again every single month. I made a point of attending every funeral. Anders would join me when his duties leading the combined mage force of Grey Wardens and Ferelden military didn't keep him otherwise occupied. Sometimes we were the only ones who bothered, which annoyed me. I certainly wasn't going to make attendance mandatory, though. It just seemed good that I force myself to go.

"Commander," the priest said, nodding in my direction before adding "Ser Warden" as she looked at Anders. She had been exceptionally cold to both of us when we arrived, but warmed up considerably over time. Probably because, in addition to attending the funerals for everyone who died under my command, I was one of the few who made an effort to attend the regular weekly services.

As she began I noticed several other Wardens slipping into seats around us. It was one of our own today, a young man from Nevarra who had met his end under an ogre's foot. "Too young," said an accented voice behind me.

"Better if it had been me," said another. I glanced behind me and a grey haired woman in mage robes met my eyes and shrugged. "It's my time, not his," she said in a thick Orlesian accent, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a patch of mottled grey skin. I could only squeeze her hand, not sure what else to say.

It turned out she was right. Her funeral was just days later.

"You know it was intentional," Tobias whispered as we sat with several of the Wardens.

I glanced over at him. "For her spell," he said, gesturing along the length of his inner arm, from wrist to elbow. I gasped, surprised. A quick glance at the unlit pyre confirmed it, one of her sleeves was entirely soaked with blood, slit to the elbow and falling away from a pale arm. I wondered if Alain had told the priest more than usual about our lives. When someone saw a mage fresh from battle with wounds on their inner arm or palm the cause would be patently obvious, especially given the reputation of Grey Warden mages. The severity of her wound would also make it clear she died by her own hand. One of the few things worse than suicide to the Chantry was being a maleficar, but here we were, listening to a priest read the traditional funeral verses.

"She had the Calling," I said quietly.

"Can't blame her," he replied.

* * *

It seemed quite clear to me that the darkspawn were attempting to simply wear us down, either not knowing or not understanding that our troops were being refreshed on a regular basis. Even then, though, they would always have the superior numbers. Darkspawn were nearly limitless, Wardens had always been too few.

The fighters were in constant flux. Groups of Wardens arrived and left on a weekly basis, and the normal troops almost as frequently. It seemed like, just as I'd learned everyone's names, they were replaced with someone new.

Being one of the only dwarves in our group, and the only one with more than a basic familiarity with the Deep Roads, I had Oghren lead the group to investigate the barrier door. I sent Anders with him, despite his protests about leaving me behind. I was surrounded by healers; if I was sending a small group into the Deep Roads more than a week's hike away I wanted them to have the best, and with Oghren there I wouldn't be worried about Anders getting hurt. Well, _as_ worried. I didn't tell him that, though. Every time I expressed the slightest concern for his safety he got annoyed with me.

Granted, that meant I was without Anders for almost a month, which left me feeling rather out of sorts. It was the longest we'd been apart, well, _ever_.

One afternoon Tobias threw a chunk of bread at me across a mess hall table.

"What was that for?" I said.

"I called your name about a dozen times and _that_ didn't get your attention," he said.

"Oh… sorry," I said. "I guess I'm a bit preoccupied."

"Preoccupied worried about everyone in the deep roads, preoccupied facing end of the world _again_, or preoccupied haven't had sex in two weeks?"

"Can't it be all three?" I said, laughing.

"I can help with that third one!" one of the Tevinter wardens said, laughing.

"I think I can manage until Anders gets back," I said.

"So… would you be _managing_ by yourself, then? Just trying to get a proper visual, you understand." He leered at me from further down the table, adding "I have a fantastic imagination!" Everyone looked from him to me and laughed.

He was trying to see if I'd blush. I wasn't going to take the bait, though. "Poor thing," I said with exaggerated sympathy. "I'm sleeping alone because my husband's out on a mission, but at least I know he'll be back soon. It must be so _frustrating_ to have no idea when your solitary nights will end! No wonder you've had to develop such a strong imagination!"

From there the conversation only grew more off color. Although I was laughing, I could start to see why Felsi didn't like the idea of her daughter spending time with a bunch of Grey Wardens.

One day, more than a week later, I saw a small commotion across camp. Looking closer I could see Oghren walking in the lead, Anders a few paces behind him. I nearly knocked a table over jumping up; I was still getting teased for the way I bolted across the camp calling Anders' name all the while for more than a month after the fact. I shouldn't have been surprised that he _wasn't_ getting teased for picking me up, saying "it was just a storeroom. Details later; tent now," and carrying me off over his shoulder.

* * *

The day before Marko was expected to arrive and take over I sat with several wardens, glaring at the rockface. "I cannot believe it is right there," one said. "To be so close, yet…"

Oghren grumbled, chucking a stone at it. "Sodding frustrating," he said. They had found nothing more than a cavernous storeroom beyond the barrier door, dating back to when the dwarves traded more extensively with the surface. Oghren had been in a funk ever since. He was hoping that they could discover the information to turn the tide in our favor. More than that, though, he had been hoping his first time in command of a Warden mission would be a rousing success. I considered any trip to the deep roads that ended without a scratch on anyone to be more than a success, but he didn't see it my way.

"You think we can blow it up?" I mused.

"Blow it up?" one of the Antivans said, looking confused.

"I know a dwarf who's brilliant with explosives. Good as the qunari."

Oghren shook his head. "Even Dworkan's not that good. A couple miles of solid rock?"

"I guess you're right," I said, absentmindedly casting a lightning bolt at it. "This does answer a question I always had, though."

"What's that?" Anders asked.

"Well, we can hear the archdemon when it's an archdemon," I said. One of the others nodded, but the rest just had to take our word for it; they joined after the blight had ended. "I always wondered if we'd feel the old god, too. If the taint in us would give us some kind of lesser version of the call darkspawn hear."

"Creepy, Mags, very creepy," Anders said.

I shrugged. "How was I supposed to know? No one in this order keeps records worth a damn."

"It is pretty pathetic," someone agreed. "Alain's got half a dozen archivists just trying to fill in the gaps for everyone after us."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate it," I said. "I wish we had something like that. The Ferelden records are all a mess since they sat in an abandoned building for two centuries."

"Why would you need records? You've _seen _an archdemon. You're one of the people who should be _writing_ the records!" One of the Orlesians looked at me and chuckled, shaking his head.

We left two mornings later, after I turned command over to Marko. He embraced all four of us, hands clasping our arms, and promised not to let a blight start on his watch. Accompanied by half a dozen Wardens whose time at the front was up, we began the long trip back.

We were nearly to Val Firmin when our group stumbled to an abrupt stop. "Darkspawn," several muttered, not that it was necessary; we could all tell.

I unsheathed my daggers and tried to focus. Just when I finally determined the direction they would be coming from I saw the group breaking a nearby treeline. Attacking with arrows and magic first, and setting the dogs on them moments later, I hoped our usual strategy would work despite the smaller number of Wardens. Although it thinned the oncoming horde, I could still see more than a hundred barreling towards us.

"What is that," Oghren said, squinting. "Ten each? Easy."

We all prepared ourselves, waiting for them to get closer. The archers fired off a couple more volleys as Anders and I hit them with spells. Finally, we couldn't put off the fight any longer. I swung out at a genlock, casting a frost spell and quickly following it with my dagger in its throat. Moving on before it fell, I ducked a hurlock's blade just in time to be shoved back by his shield. Fighting to regain my footing, I cast a crushing prison on it, whipping my blades through the magical cage to decapitate it while it was immobilized.

Standing near Oghren, I froze several at once and he ran along behind me, shattering each of them with a swing of his enormous axe. Eventually I could hear fewer battle sounds. Glancing around I saw most of the others doing the same as me: looking for another target. Anders and Tobias were finishing off an emissary, but for the most part, we were done.

"I think that's all—" I began, before a high pitched noise drowned my words out.

"Shrieks!" Tobias yelled, spinning around as he looked for them.

They began to slip out of hiding around us, as if appearing from thin air. I found myself surrounded by five of them. Knocking them back with a blast of energy, I tried to get on the other side of the group before they could recover; I didn't want to be attacked from behind. Freezing three, I hoped the spell would hold out long enough for me to deal with the other two. Alternating swings of my dagger with fast spells, I took them out, and even had time to shatter one of the frozen trio.

The remaining two lurched back into motion, one clawing for my face, the other at my arm. Ducking my head so I wouldn't end up blinded, I cast quickly and kicked out as hard as I could, shattering him and leaving only one of my attackers. Before I could turn to direct a spell at the last shriek I felt a hot pain shoot up my arm from my fingers. Turning to the left, I stumbled as my arm was yanked. Screaming, I saw my left hand half-hidden in its teeth, claws still reaching for my face.

Without thinking, I cast a bolt of lightning.

When it died his jaws clamped shut.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing! Trying to get updates out now since I start my new job in a week._


	95. The shriek was an agent of Orlais?

I dropped with the darkspawn, not wanting to look. Anders was at my side within seconds. I could hear him curse and sucked in a nervous breath. He heard me and swore again, then I could feel a rush of magic. After that, nothing.

The canvas ceiling of my old tent was above me when I opened my eyes. A small lantern was set to one side, casting shadows on the walls. Anders was sitting next to me, hunched over. The shadow cast across his face exaggerated the unhappy expression he wore.

"Hey," he said quietly, stretching out next to me. "How are you feeling?" He had changed me into a nightshirt while I was out, and washed the blood from my skin. I could see the pail of water still sitting to one side of the tent, red-stained rag hanging over the edge.

"Nervous," I replied.

"It's not that bad," he said quietly.

Sucking in a shaking breath, I sat up, shrugging free of his arms. "I want to see."

Anders nodded as he sat next to me. I looked down at the blanket, still covering my forearms. I pulled my right hand out and moved to uncover my left, freezing halfway though. "You can wait until the morning," he said. "We can just go to sleep now, not worry about anything."

"I won't be able to sleep," I said. I moved to pull the blanket back again and, once again, froze. The weight of my hand on my leg felt _wrong_. "I can't," I whispered. "I'm afraid to look."

"You don't have to look now," he said.

"Yes I do," I said. I glanced over at him. "Would you…"

"Do you want me to move the blanket?"

I nodded, clenching my eyes shut as I felt the cool air on my skin. Taking a breath, I slowly opened my eyes and forced myself to look down.

I closed my eyes again quickly, choking back the sob in my throat. I didn't want the entire camp to hear me.

Anders pulled the blanket back up quickly and put his arms around me. "It isn't as bad as you think," he said quietly. "You're just shocked right now."

"My rings?" I asked him quietly. "Did… did anyone find them?"

"They're fine, just a bit scratched" he said. "Tobias was able to get them back." I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know what he meant by that. "I put them on your right hand," Anders said. Glancing down I saw he was right. In the dim light I couldn't see any of the scratches he mentioned. "If you want we can get them resized to fit on your middle finger, though. Then you can keep them on your left hand."

Looking up at him, I raised an eyebrow. "You _really_ think I want to draw any more attention to that hand?"

"It's not that bad," he repeated. "Really."

"It's horrifying," I muttered.

"No," Anders said. "No, it's not."

"Half my hand is gone!" I snapped, holding the mangled wreck up. "I'm missing two fingers! And more! It _is_ that bad! It _is_ horrifying!"

He stared down at his lap. "I'm sorry," Anders whispered. "I did all I could. I really, really tried. I… I tried to reattach it. I just couldn't."

"I know," I said, putting my right hand on his leg. "I don't blame you. It's my fault. I should have thought. Lightning…" I shook my head. "Maker, I'm an idiot. Now what am I going to do?"

"You'll adapt," he said.

I sighed, hiding my left hand once more. "I can't even stand to look at it," I said.

"It's not that bad," he said again.

I curled up on my side, shoving my hand below the pillow. "Maybe it'll seem better in the morning," I said.

"It will," he replied, sounding not at all confident.

We didn't fall asleep for a long time. Eventually I could hear Anders murmur something against the skin of my neck, words incoherent. His breathing became more regular and I knew he was out for the night. I slipped from under his arm and conjured a small spell wisp for light. Glancing around I spotted my battered old pack set off to the side.

Kneeling and leaning over him, I gingerly began to root through it, careful not to wake him. It was taking me multiple tries to grab anything with my left hand. It wasn't just the _lack_ of half of it… it really felt much weaker. After what seemed like far too long I managed to locate what I wanted and wrestle them free from under my clothes.

Holding up the sock, I examined it. Clean. Well, mostly clean. As clean as anything in my pack, at least. Gripping the cloth in my teeth, I proceeded to cut it into strips, knife in my good hand.

The next morning Anders raised his eyebrow at me as we dressed. "What?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he said, finishing the buckles on his armor. "Just… when did you do that?" He pointed to the glove on my left hand. After stuffing part of it with bits of torn sock no one would notice there was anything wrong. Well, until they looked close enough to see two of the fingers never moved. Hopefully most people wouldn't bother with that, though.

"I couldn't sleep," I said. "It looks better like this."

He shrugged, speaking carefully. "If that's what you prefer," Anders said.

"You're telling me you'd rather look at… the mess?" I said, raising my eyebrow.

Anders paused before speaking. "It doesn't bother me," he finally said after an uncomfortable silence. _Right_.

"Well, it bothers _me_," I said. "Tease me for my vanity when you stop pulling out your grey hairs before you think anyone notices them." He stared at me in shock and I winced, biting my lip. That was probably over the line. "Um… forget I said that?" I added a moment later. "Sorry."

"You knew about that?" Anders asked quietly.

"Maybe?" I said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I'm miserable and taking it out on you."

Anders chuckled. "Well… can I stop bothering, then? Since I was doing it so _you_ wouldn't notice them." I gave him a dubious glance. "What?" he said. "Come on, what am I _supposed _to say? If I tell you I don't want to look old you'll demand to know who I need to look young for… I'm really in a no-win situation here."

I snickered. "It would never have bothered me," I said. "I just thought it was funny you tried so hard to hide it. Kind of… I don't know, cute."

"Really?"

"Really," I said, pulling on my pack. He looked relieved. "And hey, it'll keep my cousin's eyes to herself."

"Now I see your real motive," Anders said with a chuckle.

I slipped my arms around his waist. "Sorry," I said. "I'm being horrible."

"Nah," Anders said. "Well… maybe a bit. You're allowed for now, though."

I stood uselessly to the side while he took down our tent. "I really hate Orlais," I mused, looking at my gloves. "Honestly, every time we come to this country…"

"The shriek was an agent of Orlais, then?" he said, smiling. "Or the Chantry?"

"Hey, now there's a thought," I laughed. "Nah… I just feel like being here is bad luck for me."

Tobias wandered over. "You know, I was _just_ telling Oghren we shouldn't let you out of Ferelden anymore," he mused. I couldn't help but notice his attempts to see my hand. Spotting the glove his eyes widened. "You bastard!" he said to Anders. "You got it to grow back, and after I went and gutted that damn shriek to fish the rest of her fingers out?" Anders looked like he was trying to use his mind to magically shut Tobias up.

I suppose that did explain how he managed to 'get back' my wedding rings. I sighed and pulled off the glove. He winced and looked away. "I just did that so it wouldn't look as bad," I explained.

"Oh," he said quietly, face red. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," I said. "It's mine. But hey, at least I've got confirmation that with the glove on it looks normal."

"It really does," he said, relaxing as I covered my hand again. "I wouldn't have known!"

"That's something, at least," I said, more to myself.

"So…" he looked at me, obviously curious. "You still going to be able to do all your…" he wiggled his fingers around, imitating a spell.

"Let's hope so," I said. "But for now let's pray we don't get attacked again."

Thankfully we did manage to make it to Val Firmin without incident. Once back on major roads the darkspawn weren't as much of a concern. I had been told they would attack near settlements closer to the Ferelden border, near the pass by Orzammar, but that was in all likelihood a holdover from the blight. For the most part darkspawn preferred to remain in isolated areas, attacking unlucky travelers, not cities.

We stayed with Grey Wardens in most major cities, stopping for a night before continuing on. In Val Royeaux I took advantage of their large training area for mages. The room was specially warded to reduce the power of any spells cast. Finding one of the Orlesian wardens who had learned the templar skills from Ronan, I asked if he could simply dissipate anything I managed to do, not sure if the wards would be enough.

It turns out I didn't have to worry about any of my blizzard spells filling the room with snow.

My basic primal spells all seemed to come easily, although the spells large enough to require both hands were clearly more powerful on the right. Maybe because I had more hand for the magic to flow through on that side… but that didn't make much sense. I'd known male mages with hands twice the size of mine who couldn't even come close to the strength of my primal spells. Maybe it was my own hesitation? I'd probably have to do some research to see if there were any mages with similar injuries in the past. I suspected, even if there were, nothing would be told about how they functioned afterwards. In the tower no one really cares if someone decides to _stop_ casting spells, after all.

I tried to set a few basic hexes and wards… some worked, the ones that only required one hand. Others, not so much. I couldn't even make the proper gestures for them anymore.

After a couple tries that only ended in me raining a pitiful amount of snow on my own head, from my right hand, I realized I couldn't do large storms, either. They required both hands and, once again, the complex gesticulations were impossible for me.

"Commander?" the young Warden said, after I sat on a bench along the wall.

I looked over at him. "Please, call me Maggie," I said. "I just use the title when I want to scare people. Or, you know, if I'm ordering around hundreds of non-Wardens."

"Thank you," he said with a smile. I knew Alain didn't require his Wardens to call him by title, but in some countries they did. "It probably isn't my place, but… I've stood here watching dozens of mages practice. You shouldn't be worried, even now you're still as good as any of the mages in our order."

I shrugged, standing up and gathering my things. "The things I can still do… they're mostly the same as before. But the other things... I can't do at all."

He nodded, clearly not sure what to say to that, and opening the door for me. Orlesians were very big on things like that, I'd noticed. Even some of the female Wardens, walking in a group, would simply stop when they came to a door, automatically assuming one of the men would open it for her. I suppose it was no stranger than me letting Anders deal with our tent night after night, but it always seemed to catch me by surprise.

As I walked back to the room Anders and I had been given a young woman rushed over. "Someone from the _empress _is here," she said breathlessly.

Sighing, I gestured for her to lead me on. A man in livery was standing in the main hall, looking extremely uncomfortable. It was not unlike our main hall at home: it may once have been a formal receiving room for some noble, but it had been turned into a gathering place for the Wardens. "Yes?" I asked walking up to him.

He gave me a surprised glance, probably because the shoulders of my robes, and my hair, were drenched from melting snow, and I was covered in sweat as well. I suspected my current state was confirming any number of bad things about Fereldans. "Her Imperial Highness was most disappointed she did not have a chance to meet you," he said. _I'm sure she was_, I thought to myself. "She would like to speak with you today, I've been asked to escort you to the palace."

I sighed. "All right," I said. "Give me… hm… half an hour."

"I was told we should leave immediately," he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him, glancing down at my robes. Forcing myself not to smirk, I came up with an idea. "I'm not sure if custom is different here in Orlais, but at home it would be… inappropriate to expect to be received by the king while fresh from the training yard. I know your ways may be different, but if you could humor me I would feel much better changing into clean clothes." I knew it was no different here. Maybe he didn't think _I _would care about looking foolish. Maybe they hoped I'd show up covered in filth to prove some point. Or maybe it just didn't occur to him that the empress might not want her words taken quite so literally that someone would walk in covered in grime.

"Oh…" he said, looking surprised. "Of… of course."

Anders was nowhere to be found once I made it to our room. I washed and changed quickly, switching robes for archdemon armor. It was, fortunately for me, recently polished.

I knocked on the door next to ours, but Oghren was either out or unconscious. The one next to his yielded an answer, though. "Hey boss," Tobias said.

"The empress wants to meet with me," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, that's no good," he said. "Anders and Oghren were headed to the wine cellar with Alain not too long ago. I don't think either of them would be much use by now."

I sighed. I could have them sobered magically, but it would still leave them reeking of booze. "Looks like it's just us, then." Tobias hopped up, moving to pull on his good tunic. "You know, skip the tunic today," I said. "Just armor. Let's not make ourselves look soft for them."

"Your call," he said before proceeding to hide knives in both boots, down the front of his armor, and in both gauntlets. "You're armed, right?" He looked at me and laughed. "Right. How many knives?"

"Each boot, strapped to both thighs, both gauntlets, down the front of my armor, and then there's the whole 'can set them on fire with my mind' thing."

"Always good to be prepared," he said. "Is this bow all right for meeting an empress?"

I looked over at it, it was much nicer than the standard issue bows most Wardens carried. "Dragonthorn?"

He snorted. "Come on, now. It's vhenadahl. What am I, a new recruit? I saved my pay for months to get this."

"It's very nice," I said. "It should be more than fine."

He nodded, pleased. The liveried man looked slightly surprised when he saw us. "Ah, you wish to bring your elf? That is fine."

"Her _what_?" Tobias said.

"I am sorry, I do not know the term you use in Ferelden. Your… servant?"

"No," I said. "I wish to bring one of my command staff, Senior Warden Tobias. Is that a _problem_?" I tried counting backwards from ten, clenching and unclenching my fists. Tobias was already waiting for any excuse to attack; it wouldn't do if we both snapped.

"Oh…" he said, recovering quickly. "Of course there is no problem. This way, please."

We followed him out. "Does he think even _servants_ in Ferelden walk around in armor all day?"

"Maybe?" I said. "Does he think Grey Wardens dress their servants in dragonwing, though?" I mused. "I'd like to think I'm a pretty good person to work for, but no way would I drop that kind of cash for someone just to wear it to clean the floors or whatever. It's not like we've got people taking shots at the keep's staff. Well, other than that one time." Hm… maybe giving our staff armor wouldn't be an entirely bad idea.

We caught up to the man on the street. Another liveried man hopped down, holding the door of a coach open. To my shock, the first man didn't join us inside, instead sitting on the bench outside.

"Oh, just what I like," I said. "Being locked into a coach."

"Are you nervous?"

"No more than I have been since we got here," I said.

"Not even to meet the empress?"

I shrugged. "I'm sure I like our royalty better." Of course, that was easier said when sitting in a coach than when standing before the palace of Val Royeaux. I did my best not to look overwhelmed. To my surprise, we were ushered directly towards an enormous hall. I suppose she figured I would simply leave again if asked to wait.

The man guiding us stopped us at the entrance, looking uncomfortable. "I'm afraid I must ask for your weapons," he said.

"What?" I glanced around, wondering if we'd walked into a trap. I was suddenly glad I'd left Anders a detailed note.

"No one is allowed to carry weapons when they meet with Empress Celine," he said. "It is… normal procedure. For everyone. You will get them back." So much for making sure we brought our nicest things so we would look good.

I sighed, handing over my daggers. Touching them, the man dropped both immediately. "Hey!" I snapped, snatching them back up from the ground. I probably should have warned them that most people hated touching my weapons. Nathaniel once told me they made his skin crawl. "Enchanted for a mage," I said.

He glanced at a small table, a guard standing beside it. "If you would?" the man asked. He might as well have said 'please don't make me touch them again.' I walked over and set them on the table. Tobias set his bow and daggers next to it. Noticing I left my concealed weapons, he did the same.

We were taken through a massive hall and down another, smaller, hallway. It looked like the walls were literally covered in gold. Finally he held up a hand for us to stop. Opening a set of double doors, he bowed immediately. "Warden Commander Margaret of Ferelden, Senior Warden Tobias of Ferelden."

Walking in, I was glad I could remember her official title from six months earlier, and had bothered to learn basic greetings in Orlesian. I offered the bow I'd seen other members of the nobility give Alistair in the past. It was much more subdued than what a commoner would, but technically I _was_ a noble. That, and I was bowing to be polite, nothing more.

"Commander," she said in the common tongue, "I was sorry to have missed you when you passed through Jader." The empress was a very small woman. Shorter than me, and slimmer by far. She also looked to be slightly older than me, perhaps forty. I was far more pleased by this than I had any right to be, all things considered. After all, I could see glittering rings on all eight of her fingers. I suppose wearing rings on the thumbs would be considered gaudy, even by Orlesian standards.

"It is unfortunate our schedules were incompatible," I said. Tobias bit back a snicker. I darted my eyes to him and he shut his mouth, face becoming a mask.

I could hear a door behind me open. Someone entered and began speaking in Orlesian. I could understand just enough to tell they were apologizing.

"Do not trouble yourself," the empress said with a shrug. "Commander Margaret has only just arrived. We have barely said hello!" An apology for being late, then. "Commander, I do not believe you have met. May I present Her Perfection the Divine Arielle?" An iron-haired woman swept into the room followed by half a dozen templars. She stopped immediately before Tobias and I, holding her hand out. Inwardly wincing, I dropped to one knee and kissed the ornate ring she wore. Tobias did the same, looking like he wanted to spit after. She smiled and took a seat next to the empress.

I tried to keep my expression level. I'm quite sure I failed. "No, I don't believe we have," I said. "I did have opportunity to meet some of her… friends on my last trip to Orlais, though."

Her robes looked to be made entirely out of gold, if such a thing was even possible. "Indeed? I believe several of your associates visited me not long after," she replied, eyebrow raised.

"Is that so?" I said, not wanting to admit anything.

"It is," she said. "You have made many powerful friends."

"I have," I agreed. "I'm a surprisingly likable person." She just snorted, resting her arm on the chair. I could see the templar standing behind her glaring at me.

Just as the ambassador had predicted, the empress asked me pointed questions about Ferelden in the guise of friendly conversation. It seemed like she was getting frustrated with my vague or intentionally unhelpful answers. For once I made sure to think before speaking, though. I didn't want to accidentally let anything slip out. She was trying to discover if our farmland was corrupted, I replied by pointing out how short our blight was compared to the decades or centuries the other four lasted. She asked about the king's lack of training, acting sympathetic to his plight. I told her how beloved he was by the common people, and what a fine match his queen, who was from the most powerful and ancient lines in Ferelden, had made.

Finally it seemed we were done. I was about to leave when the Divine spoke out. "One more thing, Commander," she said.

"Yes?" I didn't bother hiding the dislike in my voice.

She smiled. "Given the… unfortunate rumors surrounding you, might I ask you to remove your gloves? Simply to put my own mind at ease, of course. I'm sure the rumors are just that… but I would appreciate you humoring an old woman."

"Rumors?" I said, playing dumb.

"Surely you've heard them," she replied.

"Of course I have," I said. "Although I fail to see how removing my gloves will prove if I spent the blight sharing my bed with the future king of Ferelden or not. I didn't, by the way." Tobias laughed into his hand.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Your evasion is proof enough for me!" the divine snapped. "You hide the scars that would reveal you to be a maleficar!"

"You want to see my hands?" I snapped. "Fine!" I yanked off my right glove, revealing skin that was chapped, dry, but most certainly unscarred. I was right handed, after all. Striding closer I pulled my left glove off. She drew back in disgust. Although someone would be hard pressed to distinguish what remained of the old scars from blood magic from the new scars I had just acquired, she didn't even look close enough to try. "Satisfied?" I asked. "Sorry I can't show you the rest. It's rotting along with the darkspawn who bit it off."

"I see," she said, voice tight.

I snorted. The empress looked torn. I couldn't tell if she was more annoyed with the Divine for starting the exchange, or me for my response to her goading. Regardless of which of us provoked her ire, it was clear she had no more interest in the exchange. That, and looked tempted to hit someone. Or, probably more accurately, order someone to hit someone.

I wasn't exactly surprised to find ourselves dismissed and ushered from the room in short order.

"What you expected?" Tobias asked.

"Um… no," I said. "I wasn't expecting the Divine."

"Neither was she," he said. I raised my eyebrow. "Boss, you really need to learn Orlesian," he said, shaking his head. "She said she heard you were there and rushed over to meet the hero."

"I thought she apologized for being late," I said.

"No, she apologized for showing up unannounced." Well, that was something, at least. No wonder the empress looked so on edge. She was probably mad that her chance to put me at ease was ruined when the Divine showed up.

Anders still hadn't been back to our room when I returned. My note was still untouched on the table. I crumpled it and changed into a nightshirt, settling into bed with a book on Orlesian. Tobias was right, I really should learn it. I was on the third chapter, reading a list of irregular verbs, when Anders stumbled in. Seeing me, he crawled up onto the bed, head on the pillow next to me. "What'd you do today?" he asked, arm around my waist.

"Went to meet the empress," I said. "Took Tobias with me."

"Oh," he said. "Whas she like?" His words were slurred.

"Older than me," I said. Anders grinned at that. "The Divine was there." His smile fell.

Sitting up, Anders stared at me, eyes wild. "What happened?" He sighed after I relayed the events of my afternoon.

"In a sick way, I guess messing up my hand is for the best. Otherwise I'm sure she would have seen the scars."

"I hate this country," he muttered.

"We'll be home soon," I said.

"Not soon enough," Anders snapped. He groaned, falling back to the bed. "I don't know why you married me."

"What?" I looked over at him and he made a face.

"Every time you've needed me I couldn't do anything. And now I wasn't even around. You met the Divine and where was I? Drunk with Oghren and Alain. I'm bloody useless."

I shushed him, setting my book on the floor and curling up on the bed, my head resting on his chest. "You are not," I said.

He grabbed my left wrist, holding my hand up. "Really?" he snapped, looking at the glove.

"What, you think you should be the Maker himself?" I yelled back. "You've saved my life a dozen times, probably more. No other healer could have cured the things you have."

He sighed, dropping my arm and casting a spell to sober himself. "You still do it, you know."

"Do what?"

"Act like I'm incapable of doing anything wrong," he said.

I glanced over at him. "No, I'm pretty annoyed Tobias and I had to go meet the empress alone since you and Oghren spent the day drinking with Alain," I said. "But this?" I looked down at my hand. "Find me a mage in Thedas who could have done more." He made a face at me. "I'm a Grey Warden, Anders. I've been a Grey Warden for _ten years_. I'm lucky this is the worst that's happened."

He ran a hand along my jaw. "I'm sorry," Anders said. "Every time something happens to you, you end up spending all your time convincing me it wasn't my fault."

"I know," I said, smiling. "I'm used to it."

He made a face at me before smiling. Kissing my good hand, he hopped up and began getting ready for bed.

"So you're wearing that glove every night now?" Anders said as he slid under the blankets with me, reaching out to extinguish the candles with a frost spell.

"I planned on it," I said. "Does it bother you?"

"It's up to you," he said. "Whatever makes you comfortable." I couldn't help but notice how relieved Anders sounded.

I suppose he didn't want to look at it any more than I did. Not that I could blame him.

* * *

_I totally had to guess on the empress's age. I figured she would be about the age of Cailan, given the mostly-hinted at marriage subplot in Return to Ostagar. Maybe a bit older since she seems a lot more savvy and secure in her reign by the time of Origins than he does.  
Thanks for reading and reviewing_.


	96. You have very healthy coping skills

I managed to avoid almost everyone when we got home, claiming exhaustion to retreat to my room. Taking my meals there, I spent a good two or three weeks wallowing in my own misery. I could try and deny it, but really, when you wander around in a nightdress all day it doesn't leave much room for alternate interpretations.

Jowan was the first to come find me.

The invitation to come in had barely left my mouth when the door flew open. He cautiously walked across the room to where I was curled up under a blanket by the fire. "I'm so sorry," he said, sitting next to me and putting his arm around my shoulders. "Anders _finally _told me what happened." I suppose I should have expected he would. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," I said. "It's healed. It doesn't hurt." He gave me a pointed look and I sighed. "None of my spells are working right," I said. "I can't do anything that needs both hands."

He shrugged. "Nothing _needs_ both hands, Maggie," Jowan pointed out. "Some can't be cast if you're carrying a _dagger_, sure… but I've seen you cast storm spells with one hand while you were holding a staff."

"Maybe," I said. "I've got… less hand now, though."

"I don't think that matters," he said, grabbing my good hand and holding it up. "See?" Jowan said, putting his palm flat against mine. "My hands have been bigger than yours for probably close to twenty years, but your primal spells have always been better than mine."

I sighed, leaning against him. "I don't know what I'm going to do," I said.

"Same thing you always do," he said. "Mope for a bit and then spend the rest of your life pretending nothing ever happened." I narrowed my eyes and he laughed. "Oh, come on, you know you do. That's the only way you can deal with a problem." I didn't say anything and Jowan sighed. "Fine, fine, you have very healthy coping skills. Quite rational. I've always thought so. Your husband agrees."

"Why are we friends?"

"Familiarity? Tradition? Because you were sad and friendless and wouldn't leave me alone when you got to the tower?"

"Me?" I said. "You're the one who didn't have any other friends!"

He snorted. "That's not true."

"Name one friend you had that you didn't meet through me!"

"_Neria_," he said.

I laughed, remembering the dark haired girl he studied with on occasion. "All right," I said. "You got me there. She and I…"

"Hated each other?" That seemed a bit excessive. I was about to say so when he laughed. "Mags, you once told me she was more boring than a tranquil!"

"Did I?" I mused. "That sounds mean…"

"You _were_ mean!" Jowan said, laughing. "You were probably the meanest girl in the tower when we were apprentices! Of course, she also called you the tower mattress, so I guess that made you even."

"The _what?_" He looked at me, lip twitching. A moment later Jowan was doubled over, laughing as he clutched his stomach. "No, really," I prodded. "I don't get it."

Jowan cleared his throat. "Uh… because everyone had a chance to lie on you," he said, still fighting back laughter. I joined him after a moment. Really, it was funnier than I would have expected from her. "She told me what you did," he said after calming down. Several years back, on a recruitment trip, I'd arranged to meet with her in secret at the tower to let her know he was alive and well. I hadn't known how she would react- knowing he was a blood mage, she seemed as likely to tell the templars I'd made him a Warden as anything. But, she was actually rather relieved, if her expression was any indication. "She wrote me not long after," he elaborated.

"How?" I said. "Even now outgoing mail is at least checked enough that they would see your name!"

He shrugged. "She said in the first letter that someone would sneak it out for her, I gave her a fake name to use for the others. Same one I used before I became a Warden." He leaned back against a chair. "Thank you," Jowan said. "She said thank you, too. I think you surprised her. But she also found your insistence on secrecy a bit amusing."

"Oh, I should have told her over tea," I said. "With Cullen standing in the corner, maybe?" Rolling my eyes I folded my legs under me.

"No, I get it. She always said I got too much of your flare for the dramatic, though." He stretched his legs out closer to the fire. "_Anyways,_" Jowan said, "getting back to what we were talking about before… once you've had some time to adjust you'll be fine."

I pulled off my glove. "I don't see how, do you?"

He took my wrist and raised my hand, turning it over. "This isn't so bad," Jowan said after a moment. "Since it's not just your fingers it actually looks less unusual. Less abrupt. Anders did a good job."

"I guess," I said.

"You're mad at him?" Jowan asked, looking surprised.

"What?" I blinked in surprise. "No, not at all. It just looks horrifying to me. I suppose it's good he was there, or I'd have just a stump, though." I pulled my hand back and put the glove on again. "I can't believe you're not disgusted. I am."

Jowan shrugged. "Mags, you've gotten sick all over me after having too much to drink, gotten sick all over me _again _when you had the stomach flu, and once wet _my_ bed after having a nightmare. With me in it—"

"I did not!"

"You did so," he said. "It was maybe a month after you got to the tower. After all that I don't know if it's actually possible for me to be grossed out by anything anymore."

"Jerk," I muttered. I had no memory of any of that, but Jowan was the worst liar in the world; if he was making it up he'd be wringing his hands and not meeting my eyes.

"I know," Jowan laughed.

He left not long after, making me promise not to lock myself in my room anymore. I promised, and actually kept it. Well, I kept it in the most technical sense. I locked myself in my office most mornings to work, returning to my room for lunch and staying there the rest of the day.

Some evenings I'd sneak down to the practice rooms once Anders had fallen asleep. I didn't want anyone else to see how pathetic my spells had become. Since Anders had barely even glanced at me once we got home from Orlais he didn't seem to notice my late night trips. Every evening, without fail, he walked into our room at bedtime, pulled on a nightshirt, and went straight to sleep.

If Anders noticed me looking at him he didn't say anything. I didn't want to confront him, since I was just waiting to find out that he couldn't stand the thought of me touching him again, and really didn't want to do anything to hasten that conversation. I would occasionally catch him staring at me, though. He always looked like he wanted to say something. Something told me I wouldn't like whatever he had to say.

Late one night I returned to our room several hours before dawn. Carefully holding the door as I closed it, I tried my best not to wake him. There was no reason my restlessness should rob both of us of sleep. I had just pulled my robes off and nightshirt on when he suddenly sat up and reached a hand out, lighting the fireplace. "Sorry," I said. "I tried not to disturb you."

"You don't say," he snapped. "Is there any particular _reason_ you've been _sneaking_ out of bed at night and trying your damndest not to wake me or let me find out?" I had been about to climb into bed but stepped back, seeing sparks crawling up and down his arms. "Some reason why you've been doing this, night after night, for _weeks_?"

"Anders?" He couldn't be so angry about the thought of me getting in extra practice time at night. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he said. "What does it usually mean when someone's wife starts sneaking out at all hours of the night?" My jaw dropped in shock, suddenly understanding everything, but he must have misread my expression. Anders lunged forward, grabbing my wrist. "_Who is it_?" he roared.

Moving towards him, I shook my head in horror, barely conscious of the sparks lighting against my skin from his hand. "What!" I said. "No, that isn't it. I swear!"

"Really?" he glared at me. "Since you don't seem to want _me_ anymore."

"Me?" I snapped, yanking my wrist free. "You've acted like just brushing against me when you walk past makes your skin crawl!"

"How could I not? Every time we're in the same room I can see you tense from ten feet away; it seems fairly obvious you don't want to be anywhere _near_ me!" He closed his eyes, leaning back for a moment, rubbing his hands against his face. He had been growing a beard since we got back. Crazily I wondered if the automatic motion to smooth it out was somehow ingrained in all men, even if they'd only worn a beard for weeks. "It's because of your hand, isn't it?" Anders asked after a moment. "Because I couldn't save it."

I crawled closer, kneeling near him on the bed. "That's not true," I insisted. "I've never blamed you for what happened. And…" I shook my head, still horrified. "I would never want anyone else. _Never_. I love _you_!"

"Well then _what_?" he snapped. "What are you doing night after night? What's happened to us?"

"Why don't you tell me?" I asked. "You don't talk to me, you keep giving me these looks like you're dying to say something, you… you don't…" I had been trying not to cry. I failed.

He winced. "Don't cry," Anders said, calming now that he was apparently satisfied I hadn't been cheating on him. "Talk to me."

Looking down at my hands, I sighed, taking a deep breath. "Do… do I repulse you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"

"Obviously!" I snapped.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Maker's breath! I thought you were just… upset because you got hurt. After we got home and you still didn't seem… _interested…_" He shrugged, blushing slightly. "I even grew the damned beard back because you said you liked it, Mags. Obviously you don't _repulse _me."

"So… why haven't _you_…?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" he said. "Why do you always look like I'm about to kick you whenever you see me now?"

I wrung my hands, looking down. "I've been expecting you to leave," I said quietly.

Anders shrugged off the blankets and hopped out of bed. Pacing the floor, he glared at me. "Really? _Really_? After everything we've been through… all these years, you thought I would leave you," he grabbed my wrist again, pulling off my glove and tossing it on the floor, "over _this_?" I couldn't reply, since it was true. "Well _thank you_," he said. "Thank you so much. I'm just _thrilled_ to see how much faith you put in me." He paced the floor, nightshirt hanging off one shoulder. I found myself staring at the muscles of his arm and cursed myself for being so easily distracted. "I don't know what else to do," he finally said, falling to his back across the foot of the bed. "I really don't. I'm not Zevran, I'm not your bloody father. I'm not leaving, and I'm not about to toss you out. I just don't know how else to convince you."

Putting my right hand over my left, I looked down. "I'm sorry," was all I could say. He had never given me any _real_ reason to expect him to leave, after all.

He turned his head, looking at me. "I should have killed Hob when he showed up here," Anders finally said. Groaning, he sat up and swung his legs onto the bed. "I… I know you don't have much reason to trust anyone," he said. "But… try? At least a little? Since you don't make much effort now. Or _any_, really."

I nodded, apologizing again. "You _really _thought I would run around on you?" I asked him after a moment.

"I didn't know what else to think," he said, sadly. "Sneaking out at night… and I think this is the longest we've _ever_ gone without—"

"Yes, I've noticed that," I said drily.

"I wondered if you might have found someone else," Anders said. "You have no idea how miserable I've been. I've wanted to ask, but was half worried of what you'd say."

"Speaking of trust…" I muttered. "I can't believe you'd even _think_ that."

"Well you were sneaking out of our bed at night and disappearing! What would anyone think? You still haven't even told me what you've been doing."

"Practicing."

"What?" he clearly wasn't expecting that answer.

"I didn't want anyone to know I… I'm not as good as I was. So I was going down to practice when no one else was around."

"You didn't have to hide it from me," he said quietly.

"I didn't want you to worry about me," I said. "Had I known what you thought… well, I probably would have just told you."

"Probably?"

"All right, all right," I sighed, falling back to the pillows. "I hate when we argue. Why do we do this?"

"It's always over some stupid misunderstanding," Anders agreed, shifting so he was lying in the proper direction. "Usually because you get it in your head that I'm about to take off into the night. It's better than fighting over something real, I suppose," he admitted, running a hand along my jaw. "No, it isn't. It's actually much worse, but I'd rather not think about it anymore."

I nodded. "So, you're really… all right?"

"With your hand?" he asked. I nodded. "Well," Anders began, "I'm not going to tell you it's _beautiful_ or anything since I'm not that good a liar and you'd see through it anyways. But really, your left hand doesn't even make it anywhere near the top of my list of things I like about you. Not even remotely close. So… it isn't a big deal, ultimately." He offered me a cocky grin. "Now, if you lose a leg, that's another story…"

I kicked one of those legs out, hitting him in the knee.

"Ow," Anders protested. "I see how you are. I spend weeks heartbroken, and you respond by _kicking_ me."

"I really wish you'd said something sooner," I told him. "I still can't believe you'd ever think that I would…" shaking my head, I made a face at the very idea.

He shrugged. "What should I have thought?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Anything but that?" It horrified me that he even thought I would contemplate such a thing.

Anders shifted, sitting next to me on the bed so we were both facing the same direction. "You're upset about it?" he asked

"Obviously!" I said. "You know I love you."

He nodded, putting an arm across my shoulders. "You know, I suspect that's not far from how I feel every time you assume I'm halfway out the door." He looked at me pointedly. I could only meet his eyes after a moment. He was right.

"I don't know why I do it," I said. "I... I hate that I always think that."

He sighed. "Have I ever given you reason to think it?" Anders paused and spoke again before I could answer. "I'm being serious; if I have done something I want to know so I can _stop_. Beyond being, well, _me_ of course… since I'm sure my history doesn't help matters."

"No," I said. "You never have. It's my fault." He didn't reply.

"Just once, I wish we could be normal people," Anders finally said.

"If we were normal people we'd never have met," I said. "We're from opposite sides of the country. You'd be a smith in Gwaren, and I'd be the illiterate wife of a farmer."

"Hm, there is that," he said, crawling back under the blankets. "Come on," he added a moment later, gesturing for me to join him. I curled up next to him, in the space made by his outstretched arm. Rolling to his side, he joined his hands together behind my back. "You smell good," he said, inhaling deeply against my neck.

"I just came from practicing spells," I said, giggling. "I reek of lyrium."

"I love the smell of lyrium." He reached up and put out the lights with a spell. "Back to normal?"

"Back to normal," I agreed. I didn't entirely think so, but it wasn't his fault. Anders was right, it wasn't fair that I thought the worst of him whenever anything bad happened.

"Stop worrying," he said, voice muffled against my neck.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Anders said, sitting up. "Just _stop_."

I nodded, leaning forward and kissing him. Growling, he pulled me closer, yanking his nightshirt over his head. I tossed mine aside as well, letting it fall to the floor.

Anders pushed me back and began to kiss his way up my thigh, sending me into uncontrollable giggles as he moved up my leg. "What?" he said after a moment, looking up at me. "Is this funny?"

"It tickles!" I said.

Anders stopped, looking up at me. "Should I shave?"

Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked at him. Anders was grinning up at me, head lying on my leg, one hand on his beard. It did tickle but… "No," I said. "Keep it."

"It's grey," he said.

I raised my eyebrow. "You _really_ think I care?"

"Maybe?" I continued to stare at him. "All right, maybe not," he admitted. "Still think it's… what was it you said? _Distinguished_?"

"Very," I nodded.

"So I shouldn't shave... should I _stop_ what I was doing, then?" I glared at him and he laughed. "Well then, back to work!" Somehow I was able to ignore the tickling of his beard that time.

"I shouldn't keep ending up surprised by this," Anders said not long after, brushing snow from his hair as I tried to catch my breath. I laughed, ice on my eyelashes casting rainbows across the room.

"Sorry," I offered.

"Really?" he said, sliding up to whisper in my ear, one hand still between my legs. "Are you _really _sorry?"

Gasping, I could only mumble my response before turning my attention to his throat. He groaned as I nibbled on the skin, pushing my legs further apart with his knees. "Now!" I demanded, pushing my hips up to meet him.

I wound my hands through his hair, barely aware of my actions. Instead of pulling away, Anders bent over, kissing me again. Anders groaned out when I hooked my legs around his hips. I let my head fall back, eyes closed. "Look at me," he growled. I opened my eyes and stared up at him. Grinning wildly, he bent over to kiss me again.

Holding him close, I took a deep breath. Anders wasn't wearing cologne, but I could smell the salt of his skin and faint traces of magic. I couldn't resist running my tongue along his throat. His beard scratched my face but, in all honesty, it wasn't as bad as his ever-present stubble had been. In either case I'd probably need a healing spell on my face unless I wanted to go around with red cheeks for a few days. As if reading my mind, I could sense Anders' magic spike. Blue light poured from him, leaving me shaking and crying out his name.

With a final cry Anders collapsed onto me, shifting to lay beside me a moment later.

Neither of us spoke after, fighting to catch our breath in silence. Anders eventually sat, grabbing the disheveled blankets and pulling them up over us both. Rolling over, he put an arm around me. We fell asleep without another word.

I did feel better now that I wasn't terrified he wouldn't leave me out of disgust, and Anders seemed infinitely more cheerful. Not that I could blame him, I couldn't imagine how I would feel if I spent several weeks thinking he had found someone else. I still wasn't back to normal, though. Anders pushed me to go back to my normal duties, but I still didn't want people to see how weak I'd become. I spent a great deal of time in my office, working on Warden business outside of fighting.

"Disturbing," Nathaniel said one day, passing me a letter. I fumbled as I grabbed for it and yanked off my glove in frustration. It may have looked better than my bare hand, but since the stuffed fingers never moved I found they just got in the way more than anything else. "Just throw the damn thing out," Nathaniel said, falling back into his chair.

"What?"

"That stupid glove." I made a face at him and he rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, since wandering around wearing one black archdemon-leather glove is _so much _more subtle than a couple missing fingers." He shook his head. "It just draws more attention to exactly what you want everyone to ignore."

I ignored him, picking up the letter. "Andraste's blood," I muttered, looking it over. I had grown familiar enough with Warden encryption, especially over the last several years of chaos, that I no longer needed to translate each word. In Alain's now-familiar hand he told of the front. The Wardens, to their great shock, were ignored when a new wave of darkspawn rushed into the middle of a large skirmish. The new arrivals proceeded to attack the darkspawn instead of the Wardens. He was in shock.

"Nothing new for us," Nathaniel said.

"True enough," I agreed. We had seen the same when the darkspawn who followed the Architect, who wanted to break their ties to the archdemons, fought against the darkspawn who still wanted or heard the old gods' call. "It is starting to make more sense, though," I mused. "They both found it. One group wants to try the architect's… experiment. The other wants what darkspawn have always wanted."

"I suppose that does make some sense," Nathaniel agreed. "And in either case they _both_ need to be stopped, since they'll both just start another blight." I nodded, in complete agreement.

While I continued to practice only in the dead of night, Anders now came with me. Sometimes he would offer help or advice, but mostly he sat to the side reading quietly, setting to offer encouragement whenever he could tell I was frustrated. As a result we both began sleeping far too late in the mornings. Well, I did. Anders always seemed to be up and about his day long before I'd even stirred.

We had been home for nearly a year and he was still the only person to see me cast a spell more complex than lighting a candle. "I may step down," I said one night as we got ready for bed.

"_What_?" He stared at me in shock.

"I can't do my job." Sitting down, I tucked my legs under me. "I can't pretend it'll go back to normal. I can't be a Grey Warden if I can't _fight_."

He dropped to the bed next to me. "You haven't _tried_." I narrowed my eyes and Anders shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "You work at night, I've seen you… you're far from the worst of the mages here, even after everything." He shook his head. "What, if you can't be the best you don't want to be anything? Is that it?"

"What if it is?" I snapped. "I'm the commander, I'm _supposed_ to be the best. It's _the only damn thing I can do_." Falling back to the pillows I yanked the blankets up and sighed. "What else am I good at?"

Anders only gave me a sad look.

Perhaps two months later I was interrupted by a knock on the door of my room. "Come in," I called, not bothering to glance behind me. I had been spending the afternoon reading about Hafter's role in the second blight and, for once, looked forward to a distraction. The book had been read so many times I could practically recite whole chapters from memory. The door opened, I could sense a mage approaching. "Hi, Jowan," I said without looking up. Anders and Aidan were off teaching new recruits for the day, there was no other mage who would interrupt me.

"No," came a familiar voice. "Although that does answer a lingering question I've been carrying for many years." I jumped to my feet. Leaning on a walking stick, the First Enchanter stood near my doorway. "Really, Margaret," he said, shaking his head. "Nearly supper and you're still sitting in a nightdress?" Irving raised an eyebrow.

"I… er…." Suddenly I felt like I'd been caught cheating on a test.

He shook his head. "I'm an old man. Can I sit while you pick your jaw up?"

"Oh!" I looked around and gestured to a chair near the fire. "Of course. Um… excuse me." Without waiting for a response I darted from the sitting room to my bedroom, closing the door and quickly changing. Once dressed in a faded set of Warden robes, which were close at hand, I returned.

"Go ahead," he said when I returned. "You have never been good with patience."

I sat down. "What can I do for you, First Enchanter?"

"It is merely Irving now," he said, leaning forward to warm his hands by the fire. The skin was so thin I briefly thought I could see the bones of his very hands. "I'm retired, Torrin is First Enchanter. As you know." I shrugged. That wasn't the point. "Fine, fine," he said. "I'm here because Anders invited me."

"_Anders_ invited you?" He wasn't exactly fond of the First Enchanter, or former First Enchanter as the case may be. Not by far.

Irving nodded. "Since I left Greagoir downstairs with the two glaring at each other across a table I suspect he may be regretting it. But… he told me of your injury and hoped I could help." He looked at me and shook his head. "Let me see." I held my hand out. I hadn't bothered with the glove for some time. "I've seen worse," he said after a moment, standing up. "Come on, we might as well get to work."

Normally I would have argued, but I had to admit, I did hope Irving would somehow be able to help me. Standing up, I grabbed my daggers from the weapon rack on the wall. Narrowing his eyes, he smacked them from my hands. "Hey!"

"Are you a mage?" he demanded, nearly shouting.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A very good one," Irving said. "Since you seem so concerned with hiding it!"

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at him. "When have I _ever _hid that I was a mage?" I demanded.

"Well then act like one!" Irving shoved a staff at me. Although I did appreciate his attempt to help me, I had no intention to calmly stand while he ordered me around like I was a teenaged apprentice. I dropped the staff to the ground. Irving glared at me.

"That one belongs to Anders," I said, grabbing my own from the wall and, after a moment, picking the other up carefully. "Mine's blue."

* * *

_That whole "work" thing really gets in the way of writing, let me tell you!_  
_And the news of DA2? I couldn't be more thrilled if I tried! I posted a one shot inspired by it earlier this evening. Very much looking forward to my DA2 fic now, more than ever!_

_The Neria that Maggie and Jowan mention is my sly little reference to Miri1984's Fractures. I highly recommend it! We spent far too much time deciding what Maggie would be like in her universe if she never became the Warden, and what Neria would be like in this one. :)  
_

_There's some new art!_  
_By Payroo http:/ /payroo. deviantart. com/art/ Commission- Anders-x- Amell- 196738421_  
_By nenosronhir: http:/ /img. photobucket .com/albums /v236/ cheshirewolfe/ __maggieanders. png_

_Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers! _


	97. Some might enjoy another civil war

Anders stopped us in the hall. "A minute," he said to Irving, leading me away by the arm into an empty storeroom. "Are you mad?"

"Because you called Irving?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, because the way you were screaming 'don't stop don't stop' last night was enough to make me… well, stop."

I snickered. "Well, yeah, I was a bit annoyed about that. But you made it up to me this morning." Anders smiled, folding his arm with a pleased look on his face. "No, I'm not mad," I said. Looping my arms around his waist, I looked up at him. "Thank you. Really."

"You think he can help?"

I grinned as he uncrossed his arms, shifting them from between us to hold me against him. "I think he can't make things any _worse_," I said. "But… _you_ thought he could help. And asked him to come, for me. So… thank you."

Anders kissed my forehead. "I miss you," he said. "Sure, for a while it was fun not having to piece my wife back together… but I did always enjoy the chance to show off."

"But you hate Irving!"

"I know he was always your favorite of your old teachers."

I laughed. "Well, he's still treating me like I'm one of his apprentices. I've already gotten a lecture."

"Oh?" Anders looked amused. "On what?"

"Apparently I need to stop trying to be something I'm not and start remembering how to act like a mage," I said, chuckling.

He pulled back, looking me up and down. "That explains the robes and staff," he said. Covering his mouth with a hand, I could see the skin around his eyes crinkle.

"What?"

"Nothing," Anders said. I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing _bad_," he insisted. "I've missed seeing you in robes."

"So_ you_ think I've been acting like something I'm not?"

"No," Anders laughed, shaking his head. "I just think you look good in robes. Is that a crime?" With a smirk he grabbed me, pulling me closer to him. I could hear someone clearing their throat behind us as we kissed. "Figures," Anders muttered quietly. He shifted his grip from my behind to my hips as I untangled my legs from around him. Setting me back on the ground I turned, blushing as Irving stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"I suppose some things never change," he said.

"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling for all the world like it was twenty years ago. Squeezing Anders' hand, I followed Irving back into the hall. When I glanced over at him, he looked amused.

Greagoir, apparently, would be dedicated to making sure any spells I did manage to cast didn't bring the Keep down around our ears. As if I could manage such a thing anymore. The mage training spaces were warded, but a large primal spell could still cause damage if it wasn't dispelled quickly. Irving explained how he had mostly retired, and was deciding if he would go to Val Royeaux or not.

"He is still himself," Irving said. "His skills are there, and… usually his mind is there. On occasion things may become a little, well, _fuzzy_." He sounded very sad. "It was too late for him, to quit. He had been a templar so many years…"

"I suspected as much," I said quietly. "I wish someone could think of some way to help him," I added a moment later, surprised by how much I meant it.

"Don't act as though he is dying," Irving said. "He hates that. It is still Greagoir, after all. Just… if he calls you by the wrong name or briefly forgets we are no longer vassals of Orlais… pretend not to notice. It's easier that way." I didn't say anything, wondering if I'd really be able to keep my expression level enough that he wouldn't notice. "It isn't as bad as it seems," Irving said, not sounding very believable. "It happens no more than once a day. If even that. And it passes quickly. I just didn't want you to be startled." He dropped his voice. "He thinks that he is here to keep an eye on me, since I'm still a mage of the Circle. Really, it's more the opposite. He and I have known each other long enough that, even if he forgets what year it may be, I don't seem out of place to him."

I nodded. Greagoir was sitting in the main hall, looking thinner than I remembered him, and older, but otherwise healthy. He was laughing with Ronan, but stood when he saw us, clapping the former templar on the shoulder before walking towards Irving and I.

"Fourteen months, Margaret?" he said, eyebrow raised. "Anders tells us you have been _moping_ for _fourteen months?_"

"It didn't feel like that long…" I said, biting my lip.

"Well it was," he said flatly. "The girl _I_ knew would probably slap you across the face for this."

"Probably," I said. "She had a full hand to slap with."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't even start that nonsense with me." Greagoir reached out, grabbing my wrist and examining my hand. "I knew a man who lost more than this in the war with Orlais," he mused. "Still managed to hold a sword until his dying day." He rolled his eyes, adding "and before you ask, no, it wasn't that same day. It was… oh, last month, I think?" He looked over at Irving. "You remember him, don't you? What was it we used to call him…."

"I believe he died just before the blight," Irving said. "I… I can't remember his nickname, though."

"It was funny, I recall that much," Greagoir said, lost in thought. "Oh well… there's too much I can't remember these days, that's the least of it." We walked towards the practice room. "Ah, yes," Greagoir muttered, more to himself. "Of course… The Claw…. That was what we called him!"

I froze mid-step, looking at my hands. Irving sighed next to me and glared at Greagoir.

"It's all right," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

As we approached the training room I became more nervous. Having the two authority figures of my childhood marching alongside me didn't help, either. Not everyone could tell a blood mage from any other mage, but there was a difference. Alistair had noticed my spells felt "changed" as he put it, even normal spells, when I became a blood mage. Fiona had commented on the same thing about Anders, well before even I found out he was a blood mage. While in neither case they knew what _caused_ the change, I couldn't expect the same level of inexperience from the former First Enchanter and Knight Commander. Especially when both had been intimately acquainted with blood mages from the time of Uldred's uprising.

Had they put two and two together with the feeling of Uldred's spells and those of his accomplices, and blood magic? I didn't know, but it wouldn't surprise me. Neither would have risen so far in life if they were stupid, after all. Despite what I might have thought about them years ago.

"We… should talk first," I said, closing the door of the practice room. Glancing at the enormous griffin tapestry on the wall I took a breath. I crossed my arms in front of me, and then uncrossed them as I tried to think of what to say. "Um… Grey Wardens know spells that are, um… really different from what I learned in the Circle."

"Is that so?" Greagoir asked.

"Yes," I said, nodding emphatically.

"Your skills must be varied indeed," he said. "I assume this would be in addition to the blood magic you learned a decade ago?"

I started coughing. "W-what? I'm no blood mage!"

"Do you think me a fool?" he said, sitting on a bench. "Wynne told us both after you stopped Uldred. _'Grey Warden magic'_?" He shook his head. "Really, not your finest lie. I was far more impressed when you claimed Brennan was teaching you diagnostic healing spells for _lung conditions. _Irving and I were laughing over that for weeks." With a tired sound he set his sword and shield aside, leaning back against the wall. "You're no more believable now than you were then."

"But I'm not," I protested, doing my best to sound convincing and stepping further back.

"Oh, calm down," he said. "If I didn't kill you then I certainly won't now. Everyone knows the Grey Wardens pride themselves on using any means necessary. It is… difficult to criticize when, for all I know, that is the only reason all of Ferelden wasn't overrun by darkspawn." Greagoir looked tired, and old. He also looked _disappointed. _

"I admit," Irving said, "I made up something about Wardens having access to their own books... You certainly didn't seem to be able to think of a decent excuse, and your fellow Warden was no help. Wynne would have insisted on having you locked up," he explained. "Or worse. It was a _blight_! There were no other Grey Wardens. I didn't know just _how_ necessary they were then, but everyone had always said they were the only ones who could end a blight. Even if it wasn't for that, I had no doubt your fellows would have jumped to your defense. What were we to do? Kill the last Grey Wardens? Or let the last of the Ferelden mages die trying?"

"Indeed," Greagoir said. "I suspected it was a matter of time once you became a Warden." He paused. "No, in truth I long since wondered if you already were. Jowan, Brennan, Bridget… all your closest friends..."

"I wasn't," I said quietly. "I didn't know about them, not until…"

Irving looked saddened. "I always thought I taught you better than that… but there have been whispers of the Grey Wardens for as long as anyone can remember." Irving put a hand on my shoulder. "I would not have expected it of him, but did Duncan pressure you to…?"

"No," I said. "Absolutely not. Although it was… _strongly implied_ it would be welcomed."

"And that's why? He _strongly implied_ and you took it as an order."

"No," I said. "He was dead. _Everyone_ was dead. Everyone was dead and we were alone, and I was sick of getting hurt. Getting hurt, getting addled and stumbling over my own damned feet, watching my _friends_ get hurt and being helpless to do anything because I was too drained to cast a single bolt of lightning. Do you know what happens in the middle of a battle when a normal mage runs out of lyrium?" My voice was growing louder, as if under its own power. "They _die_, that's what." When neither of them said anything the fight went out of me. "I was scared," I said, sitting on the floor.

"Scared?" Greagoir looked at me, eyebrow raised.

"It happens," I said defensively. "What, because I never let you see it you think it just doesn't happen?"

"I never said that," he replied. "I just didn't expect 'I was scared' as an excuse."

"It's true," I said. "Scared I'd die, scared we'd fail… mostly scared someone else would die because I was too worn out to help them. But, give me some time and I'll think of something suitably impressive, to go with my image." I widened my eyes before turning to face him, hand over my heart. "Our holy lady came to me in a vision! She _told_ me to! I had no choice but to obey, who could refuse the bride of the Maker?"

"Charming as always."

"I do try."

He grumbled. "It isn't something I wish to discuss," Greagoir said. "Make no mistake, I don't approve. But I would also like to think that I've known you long enough to know you committed a horrible sin for the right reasons, if such a thing could be possible."

"All these years… you _honestly _thought we didn't know?" Irving looked surprised.

"No," I admitted.

"So… Is it true?" he looked intrigued. "The Grey Warden spellbooks? I imagined I had made the entire thing up. I'd certainly love to see them."

"There are," I said. "I suspect every single one is forbidden by the Circle, though."

"I suppose it's a good thing I've retired," he said, looking pleased. Standing up he walked over to me. "Now, time to work. Let me see that staff of yours." I handed it over. "What is this?"

"Volcanic aurum," I said. "Tinted blue. The globe is Rivani crystal."

"Why blue?"

"I like blue," I said. "And the person who gave it to me knew that. It was a wedding present."

"It would be like Anders to find a way to make _gold_ more flamboyant," Greagoir said.

"It would," I agreed. "But this was a gift from the King and Queen." I laughed. "Anders? Really? A custom made staff imported from Tevinter? _One_ of these would cost more than both of us made in a year, and we have a matched set!" I couldn't figure out why he thought _Anders_ of all people would have given me a wedding present. It was his wedding, too, after all. And it wasn't as though we had planned it far enough in advance to _shop_.

"And it works?"

"Give it a try," I offered, gesturing to a portion of the wall that had been reinforced with several inches of solid steel for targeted spells. Irving did, gasping as a dent was left in the metal.

"That will do," he said, handing it back to me. I could hear him mutter something to Greagoir about how he knew the Circle equipment was substandard and couldn't resist snickering. It _was_ substandard, true… but a staff bought by a _king_ was hardly a fair basis for comparison. Any of the dozens I had bought or found since becoming a Warden would be much more appropriate.

Satisfied I had proper equipment, Irving couldn't resist a crack about my robes. I put aside my favorite daggers, but that I wouldn't budge on.

"Irving, my Circle robes didn't even make it to _Ostagar_ without ripping. Ever try to walk a mile in a tight ankle-length skirt? Two? _Twenty?_" I made a face. "I cut slits past my knees in them myself just so I could move my damn legs. Really, after the second day I suspected they were designed specifically to make running impossible so we'd be easier to catch."

"Not _everything_ is a conspiracy, Margaret," Greagoir said.

"Even so, I won't wear long robes. Dying because of a poor clothing choice would be really pathetic."

"Fine," he said. "Let's just get to work. If you really want to dress like a handmaid of the Black Divine I'm not going to stop you."

Irving spent the rest of the day putting me through one drill after another. And not just drills, but _apprentice _drills. No, not just apprentice drills… _children's_ drills. He made me cast all of the lowest level primal spells, one after another, until my arms ached and throat was sore.

It went on like that for what felt like ages. I dragged myself to bed night after night so tired I could barely light the fireplace. I woke up feeling no less exhausted, and only seemed to actually _rest _when I was sitting at my desk in the early morning hours doing paperwork.

More than a month passed before I was allowed to try any of the spells I'd learned by my fifth year in the Circle. It was nearly six more months beyond that before he told me to try and cast any larger storm spells.

It took three months of failed attempts for any of them to actually _work._

The first time I stood in the practice room with snow swirling around my legs and settling onto my hair I could only look around in amazement. Irving handed me a handkerchief and I realized, with surprised, that I had been crying.

Of course, that wasn't enough for Irving. The snow was soon melted, and even the water gone, with a fire spell. After that he ordered lightning, with the old mage casting a shield to guard himself and Greagoir. "Earthquake," he ordered next.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No earthquake spells inside the Keep." Irving gave me his best teacher glare and I glared right back. "Hey, that's a longstanding rule. Do you know how many tens of thousands of sovereigns it cost to rebuild this place? I'm not about to start putting cracks in the plaster myself."

"Fine," he said. "You know if you had proper stone walls—"

"It would have cost _hundreds_ of thousands of sovereigns to fix," I said. "And I'm not damaging my _home_," I repeated. "It isn't even _mine_, this building and everything in it is Grey Warden property."

"Fine," he said. "Outside."

I nodded and we began to head through the keep. I saw Anders in the main hall and gestured him over. "Come with?" I asked. "We'll need light, I think." It was already after dinner.

He walked on my right, linking his fingers with mine. "How is it going? Why outside?"

"Because I won't cast an earthquake inside the Keep," I said.

"Of course not," he replied. "You're the one who painted _'no earthquake spells!' _on the wall!"

"And that's what I told them!"

"But otherwise…"

I glanced over at him, grinning. "I was standing in six inches of snow and apparently the cold aggravates Irving's arthritis."

Anders stopped and looked at me. "Really?"

"Really," I nodded.

He grabbed me by the waist, spinning me around. Setting me back on the ground he said "I knew you would figure it out eventually."

I nodded. "I don't know how, though."

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I don't know how it worked. It just… did."

He looked thoughtful as we continued on, Irving and Greagoir not too far behind us, lost in their own conversation. "Do you think it could be a fluke?" he asked. "I don't mean to say…"

"No," I said. "I thought the same, but it's _Irving_. He made me cast that spell so many times I got frostbite. After the first two or three… it worked every time."

"So… back to work soon?"

"_Definitely_," I said emphatically. Anders had gone on shorter missions with some of the others since Irving had arrived, but I could tell he was getting antsy spending so much time in the Keep.

"Fantastic," he said. After a pause while we walked into an empty field he started laughing. "Who would have guessed I'd miss killing darkspawn."

"I have."

"You would," he laughed. We stopped in an empty field. "This would work," Anders said. "Far enough not to damage anything."

I nodded and stepped away from them. Anders raised his staff, casting a wide circle of light. My first attempt failed. "Try again," Irving demanded. So I did. Again, and again, and again. Finally, I could hear a yelp of surprise, followed by cursing. Turning, I saw Anders and Greagoir attempting to help the old mage back to his feet while the ground rolled beneath us. He took a breath once the spell was cut off by Greagoir. "I don't remember you having an affinity for earth spells."

"I don't," I said. "It's just that there's no wards outside, I guess."

Irving and Greagoir stayed on only a few more days. "What will happen to him?" I whispered to Irving over dinner one night, nodding my head slightly in Greagoir's direction. His lapses into memory had been getting worse and worse. For several days he had called me Mary, with no explanation. Before that, he kept telling me I needed to work harder if I ever wanted to be prepared for my Harrowing. Today he had known who I was, but seemed horrified to see Anders there, actually pulling me aside by the arm to warn me that he would only run away.

"I don't know," Irving said. "He decided to retire in Ferelden, though. He wants nothing to do with Orlais." Pausing to sip his wine, he shook his head. "His family… suffered horribly during the occupation."

I nodded, not surprised. The same could be said of anyone his age.

"We may take up at the Circle of Amaranthine. I'd like to keep an eye on him, and the lack of stairs would be good for me. The climate is more hospitable than the tower, as well." He shrugged. "I think he would be all right there. It's all children, Greagoir always did like children."

"That would be nice," I said. "Amaranthine is a good city."

"It's _your_ city," he said with a chuckle. "Of course you say that."

"Still true," I said before taking a bit out of a dinner roll. "Anders," I said. "Best city in Thedas?"

"Minrathous," he replied quickly.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Are you serious? You've never even been there!"

"Doesn't matter," he said sounding certain. "And didn't you once promise we'd go there?"

"Did I?"

"You did," he said. "Granted, we thought we would die the next day… but _I_ was being honest. I didn't realize you were just telling me what I want to hear." He sighed. "I feel so used. "

I elbowed him. "You are _such_ a liar," I said. "I mean, _used_? The things I could say to that…"

"Hey now," Anders said quickly. "I was kidding. No need to bring… _that_ up." I made a face at him and he laughed. "I still want to go to Minrathous, though."

"We still can," I said. "We've got time." He made a face, I could almost see the numbers flashing behind his eyes. "Please don't do the math," I said. "I know how long."

"Sorry," Anders said.

The next morning we went with Irving and Greagoir to the city. I thanked Irving for all the time he had spent helping me almost the entire way there. "Margaret, enough," he said. "It was nice just to be useful again. Since retiring all I do is sit and reread the same old books."

He gave me a hug when we split up at the city gates. Greagoir shook both our hands, although he called me Mary again. I just smiled and pretended nothing was strange about that.

"I wonder who Mary is," Anders mused as we walked.

"No idea," I admitted. "Girl he knew once?"

"Could be," he said. "Didn't seem like it, though. Sister, maybe."

"Maybe," I said. "I don't suppose we'll ever know."

We finally came to the reason for _our_ trip to the city. This early in the day, in the middle of the week, the Chantry was deserted. A brother I didn't recognize looked up briefly when we entered before returning his attention to tending the brazier.

Anders took a seat when I went over to one of the small shrines. I dropped several coins into the box and lit a candle before kneeling. After saying my thanks to Andraste and the Maker I walked back over to where Anders had fallen asleep.

"Huh?" he said when I shook his shoulder.

"Ready to go?"

"I was ready to go more than an hour ago. Now I'm just hungry." He stood up, stretching. "How many prayers could you possibly have had to say?"

I shrugged. "All of them?"

"That explains it."

"You didn't have to wait," I said.

"Maybe I wanted to say thanks that you're back to normal, too," he said. "Not as much as _you_, clearly…" He laughed as we walked. "Admit it," Anders finally demanded. "This is partly because you're thankful no one will _ever_ ask you to try and learn to heal again."

"Don't be silly." He poked me in the side, making a face. "Well, all right, maybe a little."

I probably spent no more than a week at a stretch at the keep for the next few months. We went to investigate sightings near Gherlen's pass, put down a confirmed large incursion near the Dalish lands, and even recruiting trips. In truth, I was happy just to feel like a Grey Warden once again. Signing my name on piles of documents really didn't do much to make me feel useful.

It was on one of our brief stops home when Aidan knocked on my door. "Someone here to see you," he said. Anders and I had both been sitting around, reading quietly by the fire.

"Who?" I asked. "And since when do you announce visitors? Did all our staff up and quit?"

"Dunno who," he shrugged. "And _I'm_ telling you since I'd like to find that out myself. She's pretty."

I laughed and followed him downstairs. Anders, obviously curious, tagged along. "Catherine!" I called, stepping into the main hall. Walking over, I gave her a hug. My cousin had come to visit us a few times since I got hurt, but apparently Aidan had never seen, or noticed, her. She normally wore simple commoner clothing, though. Today she was dressed in shiny black dragonwing light armor, curved daggers at her hips and a bow on her back.

"It's good to see you," she said, voice unusually sober. "But I'm actually here on behalf of a friend."

"Oh, that doesn't sound at all ominous," Anders said. She had been working for Leliana for several years. Here for a friend could mean anything from a message from her, to a message from Alistair himself.

"Top secret," she said, giving Aidan an apologetic glance. I led her upstairs, waiving him off when he tried to follow us. I couldn't help but notice her turning back to wink at him as we walked up the stairs.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes what?"

"Yes he's single," I replied. "I know that look. You think I've never given that look to anyone?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Maggie," she said. A moment later, as I closed the door of my sitting room she added "why? He say something about me?"

"He said you were cute," I replied. "Just… don't break him or anything. He's a good Warden."

"Got it," she laughed.

Anders looked at us in horror. "Maker's breath, I can't believe there's more than one of her out there. It's terrifying. Are all the women in your family like this?"

"Like what?" we said, nearly in unison, before bursting into laughter.

"Forget I asked. So… is this the sort of top secret I can hear, or should I run along and play with the boys?"

"You can stay," she said. Reaching into her armor, she removed a folded letter, handing it to me. I noted the king's seal and opened it quickly, making the mistake of reading it before sitting down.

"No," I said, sinking to the ground by the fireplace. "Oh no, oh _no_."

Anders jumped up, grabbing it from my hands. "Maker's breath," he said, helping me up after reading it. Turning to Catherine he asked "do you know what's in this?"

"Yeah," she said. "Alistair told Leli and Zev, she told me so I could deliver it to you. I was under orders to destroy the note if it looked like someone would get to it." She shook her head. "This is… bad, isn't it?"

"It is," I said.

"Oh, I don't know," Anders added. "Some people might enjoy another civil war."

"We don't know that's what would happen," Catherine replied quickly. Anders and I both stared at her and she shrugged. "But… it is the going theory."

"Right," I said. "I'm going to Denerim. Now. Are you expected back there?"

"Not if you're going," she said. "I was supposed to report back with your response, no point if you can tell him yourself."

"Good," I said, going over to the small writing desk in the corner. I quickly scrawled out a note in Warden encryption, keeping the detail as sparse as possible. "Can you deliver this for me?" I asked her.

"Sure," she said. "Where?"

"Senior Warden Fiona, at Soldier's Peak," I said. "It's maybe a two day ride. If that."

"Any maps?" she asked. "I've never even heard of the place."

"You can take a Warden with you," I said. "It'll be faster, it's not easy to find. And then Fiona will be more assured it came from me." She nodded, and looked ready to say something. "Maker's breath, fine," I said, reading her expression. "I'll ask Aidan if he wants to go."

Catherine beamed. "You're too good to me, cousin!"

"I am," I agreed. "And if I didn't ask him he'd never forgive me. Now… back to work?" She nodded. "Four people in Ferelden know what this letter could reveal. And it would be, well… almost as bad as the one you gave me." I sealed the letter, cooling the wax with a spell, and passed it off.

She slipped it into her armor. "Secrets are my job, remember? The job _you_ got me."

"Right," I said. "So… if anything happens to the letter. Tell her…" I looked at Anders, he shrugged.

"It seems like it's more than time," he said. "Especially given…"

"Right," I said, biting my lip. "Tell her I said she should come to Denerim and _talk_ to Alistair," I began. "And… remind her…" Sitting back down at the desk I sighed, face in my hands. "Oh Maker," I groaned, trying to force the image of the young princes from my mind and failing miserably. Wiping my eyes, I tried to focus. "Remind her that magic is hereditary."

* * *

_dun dun dun!  
New Art! I decided I wanted some older Maggie and Anders since this is wrapping up. The always fantastic Cave Fatuam was happy to oblige! Remove the spaces for the URLs to work.  
_http: / cave-fatuam. deviantart. com / gallery /#/ d39y1el  
http: / cave-fatuam. deviantart .com/ gallery /#/ d39y1a2  
http: / cave-fatuam. deviantart .com/ gallery /#/ d39j41g

_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers!_


	98. I would have been the worst templar ever

Anders and I set off almost immediately. Casting haste on the horses and dogs, we thundered down the pilgrim's path, stopping only once to sleep when halfway to Denerim.

Sitting by the fire at our warded campsite, I scratched behind Isolde's ears and sighed. "What do you think will happen?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he replied. "I… I really don't."

"Maker's breath, what a bloody mess."

"Yep," he agreed.

Neither of us got much sleep that night.

Once we reached Denerim we went straight to the palace. Alistair grabbed us from the main hall. "Tell me what happened?" I asked as soon as we passed into the royal family's private living quarters. He had a servant bring our things to what had once been my room, after Alistair had me moved closer to him when I was living in the palace. I spotted Wynne as we walked, sitting quietly with the red-eyed queen. She looked up and nodded in our direction.

"Duncan set his bed on fire," Alistair said, sitting in his study. "Or Bryce did. I don't know… They're both being pretty tight-lipped about who set the fire. It was Duncan's bed, though."

"So… it is both of them?" I asked. The letter hadn't specified, and I'd been holding out hope that it was only one."

"_Identical_ twins, Maggie," Alistair said. I sighed, nodding. That should have occurred to me already. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I never expected I'd have to deal with this."

"I know," I said, getting up and sitting next to him. He buried his face against my shoulder when I hugged him, shaking slightly. "I'm so sorry, Alistair," I told him.

Sitting up, he nodded, wiping his cheeks. "I know. I…" Alistair looked at me and blushed a deep red. "Maker, I don't think there's anything wrong with being a mage, you _know_ I don't, it's just…"

I shrugged. "We've known each other for fifteen years, don't bullshit on my account. It's a horrible thing, I never would have wished this for them. For anyone."

"Maggie, it's not _that_ bad," Anders spoke up. "All things considered, I rather _like_ being a mage."

"Well, so do I, but has life been easy? Ever?"

"They'll have it easier than we did," he countered. "This is hardly the end of the world. They won't even have to go to the tower. If anyone can afford a permanent tutor I'd hope it would be the king."

"Easi_er_," I said. "And that… who knows. How will people react to this? They're not a couple of warriors like us, they're heirs to the damned throne!"

"I… I don't think they _can_ be," Alistair said quietly. "Not anymore. Elissa and I were talking, and…"

I stared at him in surprise. He looked broken, head down, hands hanging limply between his knees. "You can't have any more children," I said. "Not after this many years…"

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped. "We couldn't even after they were born! But… a mage king? I might as well _invite_ the Chantry to declare an exalted march!" Alistair shook his head. "No, I can't do that to Ferelden. My concerns are… greater than my family." I leaned back, nodding. He was right.

"How are they?" I asked.

Alistair shrugged. "They seem, well, the same as always. A bit quieter than usual, though. Both of them have been keeping to themselves, but…"

"They always have," I finished. He nodded. The boys were constantly side by side, since they were old enough to walk. He had said they even developed their own language, but it turned out they had only managed to learn a messy form of Antivan.

"I don't know," he said. "I… I should talk to them. I just don't know what to _say_."

Anders and I exchanged a glance. Alistair had gotten better at hiding his emotions, which meant he was now simply _bad_ at it instead of _completely horrible_. Odds are, if he was upset, they knew it. And if he hadn't even talked to them about it… "Can we try and talk with them?" I asked.

He stared at me blankly. "Oh," Alistair said after a moment. "That's an idea. It… maybe talking to a mage would be good."

I nodded and got up, squeezing his shoulder before walking away. Anders followed me into the hall. "Poor kids," he whispered. "They're probably beside themselves."

I nodded, knocking on their door. "Come in?" called a nervous sounding voice.

I opened the door and stuck my head in. Bryce and Duncan were both sitting on the same bed, facing each other. Scraps of paper and thick dwarven writing sticks spread around them. "Aunt Maggie?" one of them asked as he saw me. "Are… are you here to yell at us?" It was Duncan, who always wore his hair short.

"Of course not," I said, walking in and sitting on the floor not far from them, my back against one of the beds. Anders glanced at their small child-sized desks, clearly contemplating the chair, before sitting behind me on the other narrow bed. "Why would I yell at you?"

"Because we started a fire?" Bryce suggested.

I shrugged. "It wasn't your fault. I've done the same thing myself."

"You have?" Duncan's eyes were wide.

"Of course," I said. "It was a long time ago, but I once burnt my hair clean off my head." I made a 'woosh' noise, gesturing around my head, and they finally cracked a smile.

"Once I hit a girl with lightning," Anders offered. "She grabbed me from behind. I didn't know she was there."

"A girl?" I said, grabbing his leg and laughing. "That was me! That was _last month!_"

"All right," he said. "Twice, then. But you froze my hair. Repeatedly. Almost every time we—" I cleared my throat and he chuckled. "Well, story for another day. I do get nervous every time you wind those fingers through my hair, though. I always know I'm going to end up very cold very soon."

"Did our father send for you?" Bryce asked.

"Not exactly," Anders told him. "He told us what happened. We decided that we should come see you."

"But _not_ to yell?"

I sighed. "Maker's breath, Bryce, why would I come halfway across Ferelden to yell at you? I've got people I can yell at back home. And I can swear at _them_."

"Can and do," Anders said with a laugh. "But they deserve it. You two didn't do anything wrong."

"We _set a fire_, Uncle Anders," Duncan said. "I know mama says you two are strange, but you really don't think that's wrong? Playing with fire is dangerous." Apparently this was something they'd been told repeatedly, from the way he and Bryce both glanced at the fireplace with slight blushes and matched expressions of guilt.

"It is," I agreed. "But was it on purpose?" They were silent, looking at each other. Bryce whispered something to Duncan, who nodded.

"I speak Antivan," Anders said.

"Oh," he said. "Sorry, ser."

"Just tell us what happened," Anders said. "You _did_ start the fire intentionally? _That_ isn't the best idea, you know."

"I know," Bryce said. "We… we wanted to see if we could do fire, though. We didn't think it would _spread_." I looked over at Anders, his hazel eyes meeting mine. He clearly had the same idea.

"What else can you do?" I asked.

They exchanged another glance, Duncan climbing down and walking over to check that the door was closed. "You won't tell?"

I sighed. "If you don't want us to we won't, but… at this point there's no reason to hide it. Your parents know already."

"I guess," he agreed. They exchanged another glance and Duncan walked over to where I was sitting. He set a water glass on the floor and kneeled next to it. Screwing up his face in concentration, I could sense magic beginning to build up in him. He sat back on his heels a moment later, looking exhausted. "There." The glass was now filled with ice.

"We learned that first," Bryce offered. "Then we learned lightning, and how to make things shake. I… I just wanted to see if we could do fire. It was my fault."

"I _started_ the fire," Duncan said.

"How long have you known?" I asked them, several suspicions falling into place.

"A year?" Duncan offered.

"No," Byrce said. "Two. It was just after we got ponies from Uncle Zevran. When one of them got hurt…"

"Right," Duncan said with a nod. He looked at his twin and grinned. "Bryce fixed him!"

"You _healed_?" Anders said, shocked. Bryce nodded. "That's… that's very good."

"It is?" Bryce looked surprised.

"Healing isn't easy," Anders said. "Your Aunt Maggie can't even manage. And then she went and got half her hand chopped off so no one would ask her anymore." I elbowed him and he chuckled.

"Can I see?" Bryce asked, eyes wide. Duncan nodded, returning to his seat next to his brother. I realized they had never seen me without the glove on since I'd been hurt. With a shrug I held my hand out. "Oooh," Bryce said.

"Neat," Duncan agreed. "Was it… all bloody and stuff?"

"Yes," I said.

"Woah," both boys said at once, grinning.

"After it happened one of the wardens gut the darkspawn who did it to fish out her wedding rings," Anders added. When I glared at him he shrugged. "What? I was an eight year old boy once." The three of them continued telling gross stories, trying to outdo one another. I waited for them to finish.

"What's going to happen to us?" Duncan asked after a moment of silence.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Will we be sent away?" Bryce said. "Like you were? I heard dad telling someone about that once. That your father sent you away because…"

"Because I'm a mage?" I offered. He nodded, and both boys made a face at the word. "He did," I said. "But that was a long time ago. Things are different now. You're not going to be sent away."

"And if you _do_ go somewhere," Anders added, "it'll be for a little while, to learn, and then you'll come home again."

"I don't know why we have to learn anything," Bryce said, arms folded. "We did fine by ourselves."

"Did you now?" Anders asked. "Destroyed bed and everything?"

"That was… bad aim," Duncan said, blushing.

"Right," I said. "Come on, on your feet."

"Where are we going?" Bryce asked.

"The battlements," I said. It was the best place I could think of where we wouldn't be seen, and wouldn't cause any damage. If they thought they knew all there was… well, the best way to prove them wrong seemed like showing them a bit of what Anders and I could do.

I stopped by Alistair's study on our way. "Taking your kids," I called.

"Where?" he said, looking up.

"To the roof."

He raised an eyebrow but nodded a moment later, probably understanding at least some of what I had in mind. He had sat on the battlements with me himself many times when I was practicing just to keep my skills up during my time in Denerim. "All right," Alistair said after a moment's hesitation. "Boys, be good, and don't go too close to the edge."

They both nodded, saying "yes, father."

Bryce moved to grab a torch as we approached the stairs. "Don't need it," I said.

"It's dark out," he replied, as if I didn't know.

I held out my hand, a ball of glowing light forming above my palm. "I know that," I said. "Don't waste torches, the poor mundanes can't see a thing without them." Anders snickered next to me, hearing the old Circle term for non-mages. It wasn't the nicest word ever, and I rarely used it, but I figured under the circumstances it might be a good thing, make them feel like we were part of some club instead of just… equally cursed.

"Sit there," I ordered, pointing to a spot against a wall by the door, a safe distance from any edges.

Anders summoned enough light to fill the area, earning a gasp from both boys. After all, they'd never seen anything more than Wynne's healing magic in action for skinned knees. "Who first?" Anders said.

I bowed in his direction and cast a shield. "Do your worst."

"I won't go easy on you," he warned striking lighting against my shield.

"I don't expect you to," I replied.

After I'd managed to deflect a barrage of primal spells and several complicated hexes we switched. As I finished I winked at Anders, raising my hands. He dodged out of the way just in time to avoid being covered in snow.

Standing at my side, he glanced over at the boys, who were both wide-eyed, judging the distance. A moment later a column of flame rose up over Denerim. "Showoff," I whispered.

"And you love it," he replied, arm around my waist. "Admit it: that is a _gorgeous_ spell."

"It is," I said, before casting another spell to cut it off. "But we should probably avoid setting Alistair's children on _fire_."

"Ah, you're no fun," he said.

"I'll get you for that," I said, casting another spell and grabbing my staff with both hands.

A haze of purple flickered over his skin briefly, too. "Really, now?"

Moving at once, we both began unleashing a flurry of spells, staves swinging at each other. The sound of metal on metal echoed against the palace walls. He fired off lightning, while trying to sweep my feet out from under me at the same time. Ducking to avoid the spell, I jumped forward, knocking him to his back. "I win," I said, panting with exertion.

He smirked up at me, clearly not nearly as tired as I was. I was still trying to get back into shape after more than a year of sitting around, though. "I don't know," Anders said, hand on my leg. "I'm feeling like a winner right now."

I laughed for a moment before remembering we weren't alone. Jumping up I grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. Returning my staff to my back and adjusting the strap that held it in place, I looked over at Bryce and Duncan. "Still think you know everything?" I asked.

They whispered together before Bryce answered. "Maybe not," he admitted.

I walked over, sitting across from them. "Focus your mind," I said. I recited a few Tevinter words and made them repeat it. "All right, now say that while moving your hand like this," I demonstrated. I watched both closely. "Bring your thumb in closer," I told Duncan, adding "don't move your wrist so far" to Bryce. After a few tries both of them managed to get it right, laughing as the spell wisp circled over their heads. "There you go," I said. "You've just cast your first spell."

Duncan looked thrilled. "That was easier than freezing things," he said.

"No," I told him. "You don't know the spells to freeze things. It _can_ be done with just concentration… but that's the hard way. If I want to freeze something I do this." I demonstrated, coating a nearby wall with ice.

We sat for some time, Anders maintaining a light around us, as the two of us told the boys about watching for dangers in the fade, and showed them a few more basic spells. Finally, as they began yawning, we all went back inside. "Aunt Maggie?" Bryce asked as we walked down the stairs. He was speaking too quietly for Duncan and Anders to hear him. I looked over and gestured for him to go on. The boys were already past my shoulders by now, they'd end up as tall as their father. "Is… is there a way _not_ to be a mage?"

I put a hand on his shoulder. "No," I said. "I'm sorry."

He sighed. "I didn't think so."

"Really, it's not a bad thing," I said. "You can do the same things as anyone else, and even more on top of that. It isn't like when Anders and I were young, you won't have to go to the tower, they won't try and stop you from getting married or having a family."

He sighed. "I won't be king, though."

"Flames take the stupid crown," Duncan spoke up. "I never wanted to be king or anything else. I want to be a Grey Warden, like dad."

"I did," Bryce said, pouting slightly.

"Well you can have it," Duncan said.

"No, I _can't_," Bryce snapped. "_Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him!_ You know that! I can't do anything now." He stomped a foot. "I wish this never happened." He glared at his brother. "It's your fault. You and the stupid fire spell. If we hadn't tried that no one would have found out!" They began swinging at each other. After a moment of shock Anders and I jumped in, each grabbing a boy around the waist and pulling them back.

"_Enough_," I snapped. "Your father trained to be a damned templar, you really think he wouldn't have figured it out eventually?"

Bryce gasped and Duncan put a hand over his mouth. "I said that word once," he whispered. "And my mouth got washed out with soap!"

"Well, when you're a Grey Warden you can swear all you want," I said. "It's one of the rules."

"Really?" Duncan said.

Anders snickered as I nodded, saying "really." I met his eyes over their heads and shrugged. It seemed the best excuse.

"I can't _wait_ to be a Grey Warden," he said again, grinning. I silently prayed he would change his mind some day… or sign up after I was gone. The alternative was too much to think about just yet.

"He's young," Anders whispered, perfectly reading my expression. "He'll forget it in a year or two."

"I didn't," I said quietly.

Anders and I said goodnight to the boys, leaving them to get ready for bed. Alistair passed us in the hall, stepping into their room. Elissa was sitting in his study when we returned. She glanced up, nodding. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "I'm glad you came," she said, voice dry. "We couldn't think of who else to call."

"Of course we came," I said.

"I wrote the Circle, they're sending us a tutor," she said. "I didn't say who it was for. A… Petra? I think. Does that sound familiar?"

"I know her," I said. "She's a good choice."

Elissa nodded. "I'm glad Anora had a child," she said after a moment. "I don't know if Fergus will ever remarry… and… now the succession is in doubt again." She sipped her tea. "We've called a Landsmeet."

"Good idea," I said, not sure if it really was, but not wanting to say anything else. Really, I knew Alistair simply didn't have it in him to hide this, though. He couldn't tell a lie if his life depended on it.

"We'll suggest Anora's daughter, Celia, as the new heir-presumptive," she said. "Of course, they may decide to leave it with Bryce, but... I find that unlikely." She glanced around, dropping her voice. "Honestly, I don't have it in me to disinherit my own son, magic or no. I know the Chantry would declare war… but they're my _children. _I'd rather leave it to the nobles to decide." I couldn't blame her for that.

"I don't know if I'll be able to vote," I said after a moment. She looked at me, surprised. "I can't trust myself to do what's right for Ferelden." Sighing, I pulled my feet up onto the chair. "I know Bryce still wants to be king, he just told me… I couldn't vote against him. No more than I could vote to, I don't know, punish someone for being a mage." She nodded, understanding. "Maybe I'll have Nathaniel come up and vote for me. He's my second, so it's allowed."

Alistair joined us a moment later, while we thought about that. "Did they say anything to you?" he asked, closing the door gently.

"They've known," I said. "This isn't a new thing."

He sat down, groaning. "How long?"

"A long time," Anders offered. "One of their ponies got hurt the first time they went out riding, Bryce told us he healed him."

"Maker's breath," Alistair said. "Well, first off, they're _not_ ponies, they're bloody Antivan geldings. Zevran spent a damned fortune on the things, and they insist on calling them ponies, much to his frustration." I laughed at that, just imagining Zevran's face. "And second… that was almost two years ago!"

"That's what they said," I replied. "The fire wasn't an _accident_…." Elissa sucked in a breath and I waved my hand. "I mean, it _was_. They didn't set out to burn the bed or anything; they're not _insane_. They were _trying_ to cast fire spells, though. Duncan wanted to see if they could do it. And, well…"

"Evidently he has a gift for fire spells," Anders finished.

"Well then," Alistair said after an uncomfortable silence. "I suppose it's a good thing I was recruited to the Wardens." I gave him a curious look. He shrugged. "Two years and it takes a _fire_ for me to notice I'm sitting next to a couple little mages at every meal? I would have been the worst templar _ever_."

I looked at him and, despite myself, started laughing. It wasn't long before the four of us were giggling like fools, unable to stop thanks to exhaustion and the absurdity of the situation.

"What does Eamon say?" I finally asked when I could speak clearly.

Alistair shrugged. "He offered to write Connor, get him back from Tevinter to teach the boys. I said not to be silly."

"Connor focused in mysteries of the Fade, not teaching," I said. "Nice thought, but they're better off with Petra."

Elissa cleared her throat, looking at Alistair. He sighed. "Fine," he said. "Look," he said, glancing from me to Anders and back again. "Can you take them? For a bit?"

"Bad idea," Anders said quickly. "They're both worried about getting sent away, so you want to _send them away_?"

"I know, I know," he said. "It's just… I don't know how the Landsmeet will go, I don't know how people will react. I'd feel better if they were somewhere else, outside Denerim. Safe."

"You think someone would—" I pushed my hair back, sitting up straighter.

"I don't know!" he said again. "I won't take the risk, though. If it was _my_ life, sure. But… not theirs."

"All right," I said finally. "But you're explaining why to them. I don't want to find out they think you're just sticking them with us since we're mages."

"I am," Alistair said nervously. "I mean, not like _that_, but that is the reason I asked you and not, say, Fergus. He is the better choice, really… what do either of you know about kids?" I shrugged, not finding much argument with that. "But… would he know what to do if one of them set the other on fire? Or how to explain the fade?" He pushed his hair back, sighing. "It's not because I _want_ to get rid of them. I _hate_ the idea. But I want to know they're safe, and I know you two… I will _not_ send them to the damned Circle, and I don't care how much nicer it is now. Please, help me."

"I can't promise they won't return with an exciting new vocabulary," I warned.

He raised an eyebrow. "_I_ can't pretend I wasn't already expecting that." Alistair made a face. "I _also_ can't believe I'm about to say this, but… if you need help ask Jowan. His daughter seems, um…"

"Normal?" I offered.

"Right," he said. "I mean, don't take them with you to kill darkspawn or anything."

"Thanks for the tip, Alistair," Anders deadpanned. "Wouldn't have figured that out on our own. What _would_ we do without your royal guidance?"

"Sorry," Alistair said. "A bit nervous here."

A few days later all four of us sat with the boys after lunch. "You're sending us away," Bryce said flatly, arms crossed. I gave Alistair a pointed look, this was exactly what I'd been afraid of.

"Only for a little while," he said. "And you get to stay with the Grey Wardens!"

"Damn the Grey Wardens!" he snapped. Oh good, they were picking up my bad habits already. How nice.

"Bryce! Language!" Elissa said, horrified.

Alistair groaned, clearly torn. "They should know why," I said.

He gave me a dirty look. "No, I don't think we need to get into… _that_."

"Well you will sooner or later," I said. "It won't go away. I still deal with it."

"How old were you when you found out?" Alistair said. I couldn't blame him for balking at the idea of telling his sons that he was sending them away because he was afraid someone could try to kill them, but it was something any mage had to deal with, even now.

"Four," I said.

"Six," Anders added.

"We're almost nine," Duncan said, clearly not catching the point of our discussion and latching onto the idea that we thought they were too young to learn something.

"Andraste's knickers," Anders grumbled, standing up and walking over to kneel in front of the boys. "You were born at a good time," he said. "You won't have to go to the tower, no templar will ever drag you through the streets or beat you, you can live where you want, earn your own living, marry who you want… and that wasn't true for me. But…" he shrugged. "Plenty of people miss how things used to be for people like us. There are still people who hate us for what we are, and always will."

"So?" Bryce said, arms still folded.

"So, what do you think those people will do when they find out the two of you are mages?" Anders asked.

The boys looked at each other, Duncan leaning over to whisper. "You think they'll do… something bad?" Bryce finally asked.

"They might try," Anders said.

They were quiet for a long time. "It… it isn't forever, is it?" Duncan finally asked.

"No!" their mother exclaimed, grabbing both of her sons into a hug. "You will be home as soon as possible." She held them until both began to squirm and pull back. Finally releasing her grip, Elissa looked from one to the other, telling them how much she loved them and how she would count the hours until they were home again. I wondered if this would be harder on the boys or their parents.

Anders and I made plans to leave not long after. Nathaniel was on his way, and Eamon had assured me the Warden banneron's paperwork let him vote in my stead. "We didn't know if you would ever be… out of commission when it came time for a Landsmeet," he explained. "Wardens lives are a shade more dangerous than the average noble. Allowances were made."

The brief note I received from him, sent by one of the express couriers, said he and Sigrun would be traveling with Fiona. He was clearly confused, I'd only said I needed him in Denerim for the Landsmeet, not _why_, but probably assumed I would explain it when he arrived. The presence of a teary-eyed Fiona made things no more comprehensible for him. Being my second in command must be a nightmare, I thought, reading over his terse note.

I met them all at the Warden compound when they arrived, quietly explaining the situation in Caitlin's borrowed office. Fiona groaned, leaning against a wall. "I should have expected this," she said quietly. "Fine. Hopefully I haven't waited too long. Take me to him, it's long since time I talked to my son."

* * *

_And... updated. Believe it or not, I am working on the next Blue Skies chapter. RL has gotten in the way, and my desire to have this finished, or close to, when DA2 comes out._  
_More new art from the lovely Cave_Fatuam!_

http: / / cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ art/ Maggie-And-Anders-198994140  
http: / / cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ art/ Older-Maggie-Anders-in-bed-2-198994377

_Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers! _


	99. Actually, we were standing up

I walked through the palace with Fiona. Anders had disappeared, saying he promised to teach the princes… well, I'd barely been paying attention, to be honest. I was too nervous about what was waiting for me in the palace to listen. For all I knew he promised to teach them how to brew their own alcohol.

"How do you want to do this?" I asked her as we stood in my room, which was still painted in Warden blue as it had been when I lived in the palace more than a dozen years earlier.

"I… um…" She blushed slightly, looking at me and then her feet. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"You want me to tell him, don't you?"

"Well, he _would_ believe you before a near-stranger," she said.

I sighed. "Fine. Wait here." She nodded, perching herself on the edge of a small settee.

Knocking on the doorframe, I poked my head into Alistair's study. "Have a minute?" I asked him.

"Sure," he said, beckoning me in. "I just finished helping Anders teach the boys how to sharpen a sword." I raised my eyebrow. He sighed, getting up and moving to a chair by the fireplace away from his desk. "They insisted. They're worried someone will try and attack them."

I closed the door and sat near him. Alistair gave me a dirty look. "What?"

"They're horrified of the idea," he said. "I never should have let you two tell them…"

"Tell them what? That mages _are_ still hated? That someone might get it in their crazy head to kill them? It's _true_, Alistair. I'll have an easier time keeping them safe if they're being cautious, too."

Groaning, he set his glass on the floor by his chair. "Maybe."

"Yes," I said.

"Fine, fine," Alistair finally said. "I don't want to talk about this. I can't stand the thought that someone could try and hurt them."

I nodded. "That isn't why I wanted to talk to you." He raised an eyebrow. "Um…" I wasn't quite sure how to begin. "So, you were born in Harvestmere, right?"

"Is this a test?" he asked. "Yes, I know my birthday is 17 Harvestmere. Why?"

"Have you ever, um, looked into where your father was the previous Wintermarch?"

He stared at me, clearly thinking, before his jaw dropped open. "No… no, I can't say that I have. Or _want_ to. I'd _assume_ he was in Redcliffe getting handsy with the maids." Alistair shook his head. "What kind of bizarre question is that?"

"He wasn't," I said. "In Redcliffe, I mean."

"Is there a reason I feel like I should go look this up?" I nodded and he sighed, walking to a cabinet on the wall. Unlocking it from a key on his belt, Alistair ran a hand across several books before removing one. "Fine," he said. "Wintermarch, 9:9 Dragon." Sitting behind his desk he began paging through. "Huh," Alistair said after a moment.

"What?"

"It says in the old records that he had an audience with a Warden Commander Genivive of Orlais on the fourth."

"And?" I said.

"And then he accompanied her group, consisting of six Wardens, to the Circle of Magi, and from there… into the Deep Roads." He paused, looking up. "After he returned he stayed in Denerim for more than a year." He got up, grabbing another book. "He was in Denerim the entire previous Haring, too…" Alistair looked up at me. "What does this mean, Maggie? You know something…" he dropped his voice. "Is my father not…"

"No," I said quickly. "He was your father. It was your _mother_ they lied to you about."

"But if he _was _my father, he would have been in the Deep… Maker's Breath…" Alistair ignored me, returning to the first book. "Grey Wardens group…" he muttered, more to himself than me. "I knew he did _something _with them, I didn't realize he went _into _the bloody Deep Roads. Four men… one of them named _Duncan_. Was it…"

"Yes," I said. "It was him."

"I… I never knew he had met my father," Alistair said quietly. "He didn't tell me…" Shaking his head, he returned to the records. "Ha! Duncan was almost arrested for pickpocketing someone in Denerim. I guess you were right about his storied past…" Shaking his head he went on. "Commander Genevieve would have been too old…" he began, before glancing at another page. "Oh, and dead. Yes, I think that would take her out of consideration."

"Usually does," I agreed.

He stared at me. "You're not going to look?" I asked. He hadn't read anything about the final Warden accompanying the group.

"I…" Alistair shook his head. "It's her, isn't it? It would have to be. If it was someone at the palace here it would never have been kept quiet, and he didn't _go_ anywhere else…" He folded his hands. "So… it would mean my… my _mother_ was on this trip?" He paused, adding, "or at the Circle of Magi, but I think if you found out my mother was a mage you'd explode if you tried to keep it in." It was all I could do to keep a straight face. "Is it funny that I'm scared?"

"No," I said, moving closer to him. "I think that's understandable. But… I think you _need_ to know."

"I do," he agreed. His attention briefly went back to the book before his head snapped up again. "Wait," Alistair said… if my mother _wasn't_ a serving girl at Redcliffe…" he laughed then, loud and long. "Maker's breath, all these years supporting that harridan and her children, and we're not even _related_. Oh, that is rich. And, I suppose, so is Goldanna. Thanks to me."

"Are you going to cut her off?" I asked. I hadn't even thought of that.

"Nah," Alistair said. "Not her kids fault. What, send them back to a Denerim backstreet? That would be pretty cruel." He shook his head, still chucking as he returned to the old records. I wasn't sure, but I thought the handwriting looked suspiciously like Loghain's. I wasn't about to tell _him_ that, though. "Ah, here it is," he said. "They were also accompanied by a young elven woman, armed with a mage's staff, name unknown."

Oh _Andraste's bloody rags_. I groaned. "Name unknown?" I said.

"Name unknown," he repeated. "I guess that's me. Son of 'name unknown,' the elven Orlesian mage. Wow… if I tell Eamon he might just wet himself." Alistair shrugged, closing the book. "Anders is _never_ going to let me forget this, is he? I'm guessing he knows."

"He knows," I said.

"Ah, well, I suppose we can form a club." Alistair sighed. "I guess that explains where the magic came from in the family tree."

"That's why I figured I should tell you," I said, trying to think of how to explain this to him. I'd been hoping he'd see the name and put it together himself.

"One thing I have to ask," Alistair said. "I'm sure the Wardens have records of this. I never read these old books, not like you pour over yours." I shrugged, not arguing. "But… why in the Maker's name did _you_ do the math from my birthday back to my conception?"

I raised my eyebrow. "Alistair, I'm horrible at math. You know that."

"So how did you put this together?"

"I didn't," I said. "Um…" looking at my feet, I wrung my hands before meeting his gaze again. "'Name unknown' told me."

He stared at me for a long time, completely silent. "She's alive?" I nodded. "You… know her?"

"Actually, um… so do you?" I said, sounding only half as unsure as I felt.

"You knew who my mother was?" he said, clearly not paying attention to what I'd just said, "and didn't tell me?" He glared at me, horrified. "_You knew?" _he shouted, grabbing me by my collar.

"I'm sorry," I said, squirming in his grip.

"Maker's breath, Maggie! Why would you keep this from me? What kind of _sick_ joke is this?"

"It wasn't like that!" I said quickly. "She begged me not to tell you." He dropped his hold on my collar. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"She didn't want to meet me?" he sounded even more horrified at that idea.

"What?" I said. "No! No… she was afraid. She didn't want to throw your life into chaos or… be rejected. Alistair, what would people say if they found out you were half-Orlesian, the son of a mage, and had elf blood to boot?"

"Why would the world have to know?" he said. "And _rejected_? Are you kidding me, Maggie. Is there a person in Ferelden who would accuse me of prejudice against elves _or_ mages?" He sat back down, looking dejected. "If anything, I'd say most would argue the opposite."

"I told her that," I said. "And… she knows it's true _now. _But secrets find a way out," I said. "She… she wanted to meet you, to be a part of your life. Even a small part. But she didn't want to cause a civil war or anything."

"You're speaking in the past tense," he said. "Is she… dead?" He glared down at me, still on his feet while I sat in my chair, feeling suddenly far more nervous around Alistair than I had in years. "Maggie… I love you like a sister, but if you _knew _all this time and now it's too late for me to meet her, I swear by all that's holy I'll… Well, I don't know what I'll do, but you won't enjoy one bit of it."

"She's not dead!" I said. "I… I told her about the boys. I thought, all things considered, it was high time she speak to you. I've been pushing her to for years."

He relaxed, sitting back down. "I should have known you would. Thank you." Alistair sighed. "I still… how did you… since _when_ could you keep a secret to save your life?"

"I couldn't tell you," I told him. "What could I say? 'I know who she is, and no, she won't meet you'?" I made a face. "I couldn't do that to you, you were better off not knowing."

Sitting back down, Alistair rubbed his face. "So, she's alive?" I confirmed it once again. "Wait… did you say I've _met_ her?" Clearly that part hadn't quite registered when I first said it.

I nodded.

"She's a Grey Warden, an elf, a mage…" he paused. "Orlesian…" He spoke the word slowly, looking up at me. "That woman… what was her name? Fiona? The one who knew Duncan. Who said she met my father once…" he choked back a laugh. "Met my father once _indeed_."

"It's her," I said, unnecessarily. He'd figured it all out.

"I _wondered_ why she came with you to Denerim all those times," he said. "I… I had no idea." He jumped up again and began pacing the floors, glass in hand. "I have to talk to her. Is she still at the Peak? Maybe after the Landsmeet… I can meet you at Vigil's Keep and we can go with the boys so they… they can meet their grandmother."

"She's stationed at the Peak," I said. "But, um, she's not there now." He looked over at me. "She's down the hall, waiting in my room." He dropped his glass.

"She's here? Now? Here, in _this_ building?"

"Do you want me to get her?" I asked.

"Yes!" he said, before adding "no!" Alistair gave me a sheepish grin. "I need to sit down," his hands were shaking. "This… is a lot." I guided him to the fire and kicked the broken glass out of the way until it could be cleaned. "She's always been so quiet. Has she ever even said anything about me?" He looked petrified. "I always figured she thought I was… kind of a dunce."

"She's like that with everyone," I said. "Consider it a compliment." Sitting next to him, I put an arm around his shoulders. "She talks about you _constantly_. The other Wardens joke that she's the most patriotic woman in Ferelden for how much she talks about the wonderful King Alistair. She is _so_ proud of you. That's what she told me. She's so proud of what a good man you grew into. She said she's happy that you're a good king, and a good husband and father, and a good _person_." He still looked nervous. "She wanted you to have a better life," I said. "She didn't want you to live with the stigma of being an elf's son, or a mage's son. She didn't _want_ to give you up. She thought it would be better for you."

"I'm sure that was a cruel surprise for her." He laughed bitterly. "All things considered, I would have greatly preferred being the son of an elf and a mage than sleeping in the barn and going to the Chantry."

"Do you love your wife?" I asked him.

Alistair snorted. "Of course I do. You _know _I do. Just because we don't paw at each other like wild animals the way you and Anders—"

"Not what I mean," I said.

"Oh? Since I saw you two at dinner… Aren't you getting a bit old for that sort of thing, anyways? What are you now, _forty_?"

"Thirty seven and I can still set your hair on fire, Alistair." I grinned at him. "What's left of it, I mean."

He laughed as I hovered a small ball of flame over my hands. "So what do you mean? Since I _know_ I'm not going bald. I've checked. _Repeatedly_." Alistair elbowed me as the tension faded from the room.

"Well, you wouldn't have met her if you hadn't followed the path you did. Your sons would never have been born, you wouldn't have become a Warden, we would never have been friends… your whole life would be different."

"Point," he conceded. "Maybe that 'better life' thing just took a few decades to kick in."

"So… are you ready?" I asked.

"No," he said. "But, if we wait until then we'll have to stage this meeting in the Deep Roads."

"Charming," I said. "I thought we had a rule to never talk about that."

"We also had a rule to never talk about my father's sex life, and that's out the window today." He shook his head. "Really… the _Deep Roads_? Who in their right mind would think that was a good idea? And it certainly isn't the most romantic location I can think of. Not nearly as nice as, say, a _swamp_. Or a haunted house. Or a prison. Or _anywhere else in Thedas._"

I didn't say anything. He turned to look at me, eyes going wide.

"You didn't."

"Well…"

"_Please_ tell me you didn't…"

"Um…"

"Andraste's smallclothes, I made you a _noble_. You're Commander of the Grey! You're one of the most powerful people in Ferelden. _Please_ tell me you're too smart for that."

"It was just the once!"

"Why do I even ask…"

"Come on, it was only once. Anders is scared of the Deep Roads. He… needed the distraction."

"You're lucky the distraction wasn't the death of you," he said flatly.

"I know, I know," I said. "You sound like Nathaniel. Maker's breath, we were shouting distance from the Legion camp in the Dead Trenches, it's not like we pop down below the Keep for quickies after lunch." He only shook his head.

"Come on," I said. "I don't think this is a conversation either of us want to be having."

He made a face. "No, I can do without the mental images than you and Anders on the floor of the Deep Roads."

"Actually, we were standing up," I said, laughing at Alistair's expression. Poking him in the side, I made a face back at him. "Fifteen years and I can still shock you?"

"Maker only knows _why_," he said. "It's just… every time I think I've heard it all you manage to come up with something I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams. Or nightmares. Usually the second one."

Alistair always had a tendency to exaggerate. "All right, fine," I said. "I'll go get her."

"No," he said, looking serious. "I'll go with you instead. Maybe it'll be better without all the… king stuff," Alistair gestured around the room. "The Warden Room is a lot less intimidating."

I raised my eyebrow. "The _Warden Room?"_

He shrugged. "All the rooms here have names. It seemed to fit. And meant I didn't have to pay to redecorate when you moved out." Alistair sighed, walking into the hall. "Blame Duncan, he named it."

"That's low," I said, walking down the hall with him.

"What?"

"You know I couldn't yell at Duncan if my life depended on it."

Alistair laughed. "They're both going to come home cursing like dockworkers and twice their current weight from an all-candy diet, aren't they?"

I shrugged, knocking on the door. "Probably." After a brief pause I called "can we come in?" so Fiona wouldn't be shocked that I wasn't alone.

"Of course you can," she said, opening the door. "It _is_ your room." She gasped seeing us. "You… you're not Anders," Fiona said, staring at Alistair. She apparently didn't realize who I had been chatting with in the hall.

He looked at her, rubbing the back of his neck. The moment seemed to stretch out, painfully uncomfortable, until Alistair dropped his hand and shrugged. "Um… it's a boy?" he said, offering a small smile.

I couldn't stop myself from bursting into laughter. Alistair joined me a moment later, leaning against me with an elbow on my shoulder to keep him upright while I counted on the doorframe I had fallen against to do the same for me.

"Sorry," I finally managed.

"Hm," was all she said, looking at the two of us. Before Alistair could say something, although he clearly seemed about to, she spoke again. "I'm so sorry."

"I do wish you'd said something sooner," he replied. "But… better late than never, I suppose."

Fiona sighed. "I mean… your sons. All this is my fault. If you'd known what I was…"

He raised an eyebrow. "What? You're apologizing for giving birth… or for not warning me so I wouldn't have had children? Um… no, in either case it's not really necessary." Alistair sat down. "I won't lie. I wish my sons weren't mages. But that doesn't mean I wish they weren't _born_. I don't love them any less, or any differently… I just don't like that I have to worry about some fanatic trying to hurt them, and that this will throw the country into chaos."

"I understand," she said. "It's good to hear you say that."

"You _can't _be surprised," he said. "I call a mage my _sister_ for all the world to hear me. Clearly I don't care about that sort of thing." He gave her a pointed look.

"I couldn't bear the idea of you… hating me," she said. I slowly began to step away from them.

"I'll leave you alone," I said. Neither looked up as I left.

Taking a breath, I leaned against the wall once I'd closed the door. "I take it we can't go to bed?" Anders said. I glanced up, he was walking towards me from the direction of the twins' room.

"No, they've commandeered our room," I said. "It's all right."

He shrugged. "We can always just find another empty room."

"Tired?"

Anders grinned. "Nope." That was all the convincing I needed. "There we go," he said, locking the door of an unoccupied room and shoving a chair under it. "Sheets on the chairs, a sure sign no one uses this room."

"As long as there are sheets on the bed I'm happy," I said. Pulling back the curtains, I glanced down and grinned. "And I'm happy."

Warm hands ran across my shoulders, unclipping the fur caplet and dropping it aside before pausing at the center. I could feel a tugging at the laces of my robes. "Oh, you're not even _close_ to happy yet," he said, pushing my now-unlaced robes down my shoulders. Laughing, I fell to the bed, with him landing on my back. Rolling over, we moved together, skin against skin on the dusty bed.

He grabbed my leg, hooking it over his arm so he could thrust deeper into me. Groaning, I pushed my hips up to meet his. "Harder, please," I begged, screaming his name when he complied.

"Love you," he gasped into my ear as I clung to him, shaking. I kissed him and Anders groaned into my mouth, falling limply on me.

"Should we go back to our room?" he asked as we curled up on the bed.

"Nah," I said. "One bed is as good as any. I don't want to get up."

Laughing, he pulled the blankets up. "Everyone will wonder where we've gone."

Curling up next to him, head on his chest, I smiled. "Let them wonder. We'll find them at breakfast."

He chuckled, chest moving under me. I fell asleep feeling his hand running across my hair, he woke to me doing the same to him. "Morning," I said quietly.

"Morning," he whispered back. "Don't think I've forgotten. I even brought your present, it's in our actual bedroom."

Sitting up, I leaned against the headboard. It was still dark as night with the curtains drawn. "I knew you wouldn't," I said. "I'm surprised you didn't suspect I would."

"I know you better than that," he said. "Of course, I also know you're about to tell me why it shouldn't matter."

I elbowed him. "It shouldn't," I said. "Having a piece of paper from the Chantry saying we've been together ten years is well and good, but I know it's wrong. It is…" I paused, thinking back. "Almost twelve years now."

"More than twelve," he said. "Funny…" I looked over at him. "I was never one for commitment, really. Always on the lookout for someone better."

"Were you?" I laughed. I wasn't upset by it; he was no different from me, really.

"Were? Maybe I still am. Just haven't managed to find anyone better than you." He sighed. "Figures, I could have happily spent a decade working my way through the Ferelden Grey Wardens, but no, I had to start with the best. Nowhere else to go from there."

I elbowed him. He still insisted on talking about me like I was, well, pretty. Or young. Or both. I wasn't about to point out his error, though. Stretching, I wrapped my arms around him. "Not how I expected to spend today," I said.

"No," he agreed. "I was rather looking forward to spending the whole day in bed. Not… hauling two nine year olds across the East of Ferelden." Anders chuckled. "It'll be interesting, at least."

We dressed in our clothes from the previous day, changing into something clean once we got to our now-empty actual bedroom. "How do you think it went with them?" he asked.

"Well… no bloodstains," I said, glancing around the room. "Always a good sign." Gathering my hair behind me, I secured it with a leather cord. It was too long, really, especially since it had started going grey. Whenever I talked about cutting it short Anders made complaining noises, though. Tucking my gloves into a pocket, I put my daggers on my hip and staff on my back. Anders crossed his staff and broadsword. Although I'm sure Irving would disapprove, I had been practicing with blades much more since he left the Keep. I just felt better with Duncan's daggers in hand. Since we would be traveling we both wore armor.

Making sure everything was packed so the staff could bring it to our wagon, we headed down to eat. "Decided to sleep in?" Alistair asked with a smile. He was sitting between Fiona and Elissa, both of the boys across the table from them. I sat down next to the kids, quickly filling my plate. It didn't take long to realize that not only had Alistair happily accepted Fiona as his mother, he'd filled the rest of his family in on it as well. Elissa looked slightly frazzled, but the boys seemed unconcerned.

"I think we deserved it," Anders said.

Alistair gave him a confused look. "Oh?"

Anders sighed. "What did you do last week?"

"There was a masque in court," Alistair said. "In honor of our tenth wedding anniversary."

"That sounds fun," Anders said. "Now… think back ten years. What did _we_ do a week after your wedding?"

"Oh!" he said, grinning. "Happy anniversary! And, um… sorry. Probably not how you planned to spend it."

"It's all right," I said.

Alistair smiled. "Just don't… _celebrate_ in front of my boys."

"We want to go to a party!" Duncan said.

"Not their party," Alistair replied quickly.

"There's not going to be any party," I said.

"Awww…" Anders made a face at me as the rest of the adults laughed. Duncan and Bryce only exchanged a glance, muttering something about us being strange.

After breakfast we prepared to leave. "You knew?" Elissa said to me as our wagons were loaded. Alistair and Anders were sparring with the boys, both doing a good job of not letting the twins know they were being allowed to win.

"I did," I said. "I'm sorry. When I found out… she didn't want to tell him. She thought he would be better off not knowing. I didn't have the heart to tell him, knowing she'd never speak up."

She nodded. "I can understand that. In your place, I would probably have done the same."

"How do you feel?" I asked her quietly, not looking over. We were both trying to pretend that the play-fight had all our attention.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I… I'm so happy for him, in a way. He's thrilled. Beside himself. Well, you know Alistair. Suddenly having a mother, a mother who loves him? It's all he's dreamed of." Elissa paused. "But…"

"What a scandal it would be," I finished.

"Oh, to say the least," she agreed. "First the boys, now _this_." She tucked a strand of pale hair behind an ear. "I do not think her being an elf would be an issue, really."

"His mother was believed to be a servant," I said.

"And most servants, especially back then, were elves," she finished. "So, that is nothing most people do not already believe. I've already heard of people calling him Alistair the Elf-Blooded, for years now." She shrugged, annoyed by the disrespect but not the condition. "The magic, though, that could be a problem. Especially with all the reforms we've made. People will say it was for himself, not Ferelden. They'd never believe he didn't know."

I sighed. "Maybe now wasn't the right time." She looked over at me and I shrugged. "I thought… I don't know… I knew he'd accept her, and I thought the extra support would help you all."

"It will," she said. "For them, this is the best thing that could have happened. Alistair and the boys. I just worry for Ferelden."

"Don't we all these days," I said.

She laughed. "If I focus on that, perhaps I won't cry myself to sleep while my sons are gone."

I bit my lip. "I'll keep them safe," I promised.

"I know you will," she said. "You're also going to spoil them rotten."

"Maybe," I admitted. "They don't _want_ to leave. If I spoil them a bit maybe they'll be less unhappy?"

She smiled at that. They had finished loading the wagons. "You'll… make sure they eat their vegetables?" Elissa suddenly asked, eyes boring into me.

"Yes," I said. "If anything, Wardens understand the importance of food."

"And… they'll go to Chantry on Saturdays?"

"We never miss it," I said. "And if we do the priest sends someone to _us_.'

"Good," she said. "I've… I've never spent this long away from them," she said. "Not since they were born."

"Say the word and we're running back here with them," I said. "Or come to us, if you still don't think Denerim is safe. You know you're always welcome at the Keep."

"Thank you," she said. Anders was speaking with Alistair quietly, the boys were sitting with Fiona. I couldn't help but notice she looked a decade younger, smiling broadly. "Duncan… he gets nightmares sometimes," Elissa said. "And Bryce isn't as strong a rider as he claims. They… they get sick if they eat strawberries." She looked panicked.

"They'll be _fine_," I said, trying to sound reassuring.

Elissa looked over at her sons. "Well… at least you' have Anders there to help you."

I tried not to sigh at that.

* * *

_Can't really blame her for not trusting Maggie... _;)

_Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers. I'm trying to get caught up on replying to everyone._


	100. Banner day all around

We left the palace as quietly as possible. If anyone had seen us with the princes I was sure tongues would wag.

"What are we going to do about making camp?" Anders asked me after several hours. The boys were both laughing together, ignoring us.

"We're not," I said. "How could we camp with them?" Sighing, I glanced at the sun, confirming how much time we had. "If we go straight through lunch we can make it to Dragon's Peak. He'll put us up."

"Wouldn't the bann wonder why we had the boys with us?"

"Of course he would," I agreed. "If he was home. The landsmeet is tomorrow, though. I'm sure he's left already."

I was wrong, but not by much. We passed his coach headed to Denerin no more than an hour or two later. Riding in a plain wagon as we were, our tiny group barely drew a second glance.

I was right, we were given nearly royal accommodations that evening. I suspected it was due as much to our young charges as my own status. The further we got from the blight the less respect 'Warden Commander' garnered, after all. I had, to my annoyance, been depicted in profile on a recent pressing of silver coins honoring Ferelden's military heroes, but beyond that I was just the bann of a very, very small holding. And one of common birth, no less. Anders and I inspected the rooms. Ultimately we ended up locking the door to the boy's room, shoving a heavy chest of drawers in front of it, and warding it. Anyone who wanted to get to them would need to go through our adjoining room to do so. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep without worrying otherwise.

"So," Anders said, lying on the bed reading a book. "Quite the anniversary celebration we're having, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "Babysitting isn't very romantic, is it?"

He laughed, sitting up. "I'm not _blaming_ you. I just find the whole situation bizarre. No one in the world trusts us with their children… other than the _king_?"

He had a point. "Well, to be fair… Alistair is also one of my best friends."

"And all the more equipped to know how poorly suited we are to be babysitters." I must have looked sad since he moved closer, putting an arm around me. "I'm only joking. We'll do fine."

We sat, trying to figure out how to balance keeping an eye on the boys, teaching them to use and control their magic, and being Grey Wardens. "Well, we can't very well take them with us to hunt darkspawn!" I said, groaning.

"Keep your voice down," Anders said. "You don't want them to hear you. They're upset enough as it is… if they think we don't want them around either…"

I gasped, nodding. "Maker, you're right." Falling back to the pillows I sighed. "We'll find a way to manage."

Anders nodded, setting his book aside and curling up next to me. We continued to talk, this time of nothing more important than a poem he'd enjoyed and a new artist I wanted to hire to paint something for the keep. I noticed his voice growing rougher, breath tickling my skin with each word. Eventually his lips were brushing the skin of my throat as he spoke, hand reaching around to pull my shirt up.

"Need to be quiet," I said as he nibbled on my shoulder once he had managed to strip me from the waist up.

"I can be quiet," he said, pausing to pull his own shirt off and toss it aside. "You're the screamer. Maybe I should gag you?"

Laughing, I pinched his side. "Just try it!" He smirked and I raised my hips from the bed, letting him yank my leggings out of the way.

"Oh, now I'm very tempted," he said, running hands from my ankle up my leg, making me squirm. "Come to think of it… do we have any rope?" Making a face, I pulled him back down to the bed.

"Just get over here."

Chuckling softly he ran a hand across my stomach, reaching around my waist and settling it at the small of my back. Silently, I shuddered as he flicked a tongue against one hard nipple. Somehow I managed not to gasp, moan, or make any other noises the children in the next room might hear.

He seemed to be enjoying doing everything that would normally reduce me to uncontrollable moans and screams, knowing I couldn't make a sound. When Anders finally pushed my legs apart with his knees, leaning over me, I wasn't able to stop a small whimper of anticipation from escaping my lips. "Quiet," he whispered, putting fingers to my mouth. "Or we'll have to stop."

"Quiet," I agreed, drawing in a breath when he entered me. Although he moved slowly at first, as I hooked my legs around his waist and pushed back Anders' thrusts became faster. Hair hanging down over his eyes, I could see him bite his lip.

Impulsively, I pulled him closer, shifting my weight and rolling. Anders made a noise of surprise, looking up at me. "You could have… ah…. asked," he said.

"No talking," I whispered, covering his mouth with my hand as I began rocking my hips. He nodded, nipping at the skin of my palm. With a sigh I let myself speed up, leaning forward. I could sense magic rolling off Anders, sharp pinpricks of electricity against my skin where his fingers were digging into my hips. When he reached up, grabbing me by the back of the neck and pulling me down violently, it was only his mouth on mine that muffled the noise I made.

Shaking, I pulled back and looked at him. Anders was smiling up at me. When I brushed his hair from his eyes he reached up again, pulling me into another kiss. "Love you," I said, settling into the bed next to him once he had released me.

"I would hope so," he said. "You married me, after all." He smirked, pulling me into his arms. "And that was easily one of the two best days of my life."

Wondering if I would regret it, I looked up. "And the other?"

"Oh, easy," he said. "That's the day darkspawn attacked Vigil's Keep." He laughed at the horrified expression on my face. "It was the first time I got to talk to you," he said. "And I found out your name."

"Aren't we romantic tonight," I said, giggling.

"_And_ I got to kill several templars. You know that always puts a smile on my face."

"Of course," I replied.

"Yep," he said. "Banner day all around. Well, besides all the grisly deaths and the darkspawn stink getting into my hair and finding out the pretty girl flinging off spells beside me was a maleficar. Other than those, I'd say the day was just about perfect."

"Romantic indeed," I said with a laugh.

He made a noise of contentment and squeezed his arms tighter after pulling the blankets up over both of us. "You know, I can't figure out how it's even possible, but sometimes I think I love you even more than I did ten years ago." Because Anders could never leave well enough alone he added, after a pause, "if I didn't know better I'd suspect blood magic."

I looked over at him and smirked. "Mine... or yours?"

"Six of one, half dozen of the other," he said sleepily, running a hand through my hair. "Besides, everyone always says we're practically the same person. I can just see adoring you as an extension of my own... what was it you called it? Rampant egotism?"

"That's it, yeah," I said. "Not that I'm much better."

"Of course you're not," he said. "I'm fantastic. _We're_ fantastic. I can't blame us at all."

We may not have been romantic, but I liked what we were much better. Smiling, I rested my head on Anders' chest, the movement of his breathing lulling me into sleep.

The next morning I woke to the sound of laughter, as two dogs, followed by two boys, leapt onto our bed. As they jumped near our feet I pulled the blankets up higher, wishing I'd remembered to pull a longer nightshirt on. It had worked it's way up around my waist in my sleep, and even if it hadn't it would reveal far more of my backside than Alistair's sons needed to see if I stood up. "Anders?" I hissed. "Help!"

He glanced over at me and snickered. "All right, I'm on it."

Evidently he had gotten up in the night, and pulled on a pair of light cotton pants before getting back into bed. "Come on, boys," he said gesturing for them to follow. "Let's get you packed up while your Aunt Maggie does her hair."

They followed him out and he winked before closing the door. I think I set a record for how quickly I was dressed and ready.

Anders did the same while we loaded our wagon, and then the four of us ate a quick meal before setting out.

When we finally arrived back at the Keep, after another night spent with a minor noble who all but fell over himself at the chance to show us his hospitality, I let Anders get the boys settled into the empty room next to ours. I figured, all things considered, Fiona wouldn't object to losing her room at the Keep temporarily to her own grandsons. While he took care of that I briefed some of the other senior Wardens on the situation.

"So you keep them here and then what?" Tobias asked.

"And then… we wait and see how the landsmeet goes," I said. "Alistair wanted them hidden when the news broke about their magic."

"Where are they now?" Aidan asked.

"Outside with Anders," I said. "He's working on fire spells with them."

"Oh good, more sparklefingers," Oghren said, laughing. "Wouldn't it figure the Piketwirler's kids end up mages. It's like you folks _enjoy_ civil war." He shook his head. "If I didn't know better I'd think we were in Orzammar."

It ended up less complicated than I had expected, mostly since we now had enough wardens that I wasn't required for hands-on field work on a daily basis anymore. With well over a hundred in Ferelden I could easily lighten my duties for a few weeks without compromising security.

And really, it wasn't as though things didn't operate just fine while I spent a year feeling sorry for myself and sitting around in my nightdress.

I had to admit, it was actually sort of _fun_ spending most of my time with Anders teaching the boys spells and warning them of the dangers of the fade. Of course, we also warned them of the dangers of things like _Templars _and _Orlais_, but that was to be expected. If Alistair wanted them to get a traditional Circle education he certainly wouldn't have sent them to us.

After less than a week Petra arrived, looking absolutely horrified as she stepped out of a royal coach. Alistair must have had it pick her up.

"Hello," I waved from across the courtyard. I had been climbing a tree with Duncan, trying to reach the last of the apples in the upper branches. Anders stood below us with Bryce, ready to catch any we tossed down. Plucking a few more, I climbed down and walked over to her. "You all right?" I asked.

"I… um…" she glanced around, and then up. After a moment she made a noise of pain, looking down and rubbing her eyes. "It's…"

"Oh Maker," Anders muttered. "Let's get her inside. She's as bad as a new recruit from Orzammar." Guiding her by the arm he led the mage towards the Keep. "Come on, you won't fall off the world."

"What's _wrong_ with her?" Bryce whispered.

"Is she crazy?" Duncan asked.

"No," I said, gesturing for them to be quiet. "Anders, why don't you take Petra to our sitting room? The boys and I can go ask someone to bring us tea."

Once they were gone I led the princes to an empty corner of the front hall, gesturing for them to sit. Dropping into a chair across from the bench they were on I sighed. "All right," I said. "Do you remember what we told you about the Circle? And how it was different when Anders and I were little?"

"Yes…" Duncan said. "She's older than you."

"I know she is," I said, please that I didn't look older than her, despite the premature aging of the corruption in my blood, even to a couple kids. "And I don't think she's ever been outside before."

"So… why isn't she happy?" Bryce asked. "I'd be happy."

"I know you would," I said. "But…" wringing my hands, I tried to think of how to explain the absolute terror of being somewhere without high stone walls for the first time. "Just… trust me, it's not easy."

Petra seemed much more comfortable when we got upstairs. The Keep was easily as solidly built as Circle tower, though, so no wonder. "I brought these," she said, handing each boy a robe. Duncan looked happy but Bryce twisted his face up.

"I'm not wearing this," he said, clearly bracing for an argument.

"All right," I replied.

He looked almost as shocked as Petra. Anders only winked at me, clearly not the least bit scandalized. "But… they're mages," Petra said slowly. "They should wear robes."

Maker, did I sound like that when I left the Circle? Probably not.

"They're nine year old boys," I said. "I've seen enough kids growing up around here to know that if they're wearing something _clean_ we can consider it a victory. I'm not forcing them to wear _robes_." I paused. "All things considered, I would actually prefer that, if they _do_ want to wear robes, they limit it to here at the Keep. If we go into town I'd rather not call too much attention to their skills. At least for the time being."

Duncan seemed unconcerned. "I don't care if people know I'm a mage." He unfolded the robes and Anders made a face. He always had hated the Circle-issue ones. Not that I could blame him. "Can I put them on now?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. Considering they were both covered in dirt from playing in the yard it would be an improvement. "Bryce, why don't you go with him?"

"I said I'm not wearing them!" he reiterated.

"And I never said you have to," I replied, laughing to lighten the mood. "Your uncle and I just want to talk with Enchanter Petra for a bit. I don't think we've seen each other in five years."

"Oh," he said, almost sounding disappointed he wouldn't get to argue. "Well… all right, then."

"Maker's breath," I said once they were gone and a maid had delivered us tea. "I would have been the _worst_ mother. I just don't have it in me to argue with them."

"All things considered, a little fun isn't a bad idea," Anders said. "Their lives will only get worse from here on in."

"You really believe that?" Petra asked him.

"You _don't_?" he replied. "Last month they were the pampered heirs of King Alistair. Now… they're a national issue. Even in a best-case scenario they'll be gossiped about all across _Thedas_ for the rest of their lives. The subject of plots from the Chantry, Orlais… Maker's breath, I wouldn't be shocked if the Imperium tries to hatch a way to ensure one of them takes the throne when the news reaches that far north. Worst case…" he made a face, folding his hands.

"Worst case?" she asked.

"Alistair sent them here since we can protect them from any misguided fools who think they're doing their holy duty by getting the mage blood out of the royal line," I said. "Worst case scenario? They end up dead."

She looked chilled at the thought. "I know they say people will try and kill mages if we're free…"

"Well, in that case the Circle wasn't completely lying," I replied. "It isn't nearly as bad as they made it out to be, but believe me, there aren't many in Ferelden who would smile at the idea of a mage king."

"You've managed," she said.

"I've got a lot less power than a king," I replied. "And it's amazing what people are willing to overlook when they think they literally owe you thanks for not being _dead_. I'm not a mage to them, I'm the Hero of Ferelden, and there's a _big _difference"

She nodded, leaning back. "This is a very .nice home," she said, glancing around the room. I wondered if they were told to say things like that. "You have a lot of, um… paintings."

"I like paintings," I said. "That's Garahel, the hero of the fourth blight," I said, gesturing to the elven man standing in profile, looking down. Next to his was a portrait of a stunning dwarven woman with red hair and a casteless brand, almond shaped eyes looking out from the canvas almost seductively. "Warden Commander Frida, she was the first woman to lead the Ferelden Wardens, back in the Glory age. Every time someone makes a comment about how they expected all the women in the order to be ugly I think of her. Next to her is Warden Commander Duncan, my predecessor. And I'm sure you recognize Dane, King Maric, and Alistair. Oh, and our wedding portrait. That's my favorite one."

Petra chuckled. "We were all _very_ surprised about that."

"I don't see why," Anders said. "We had been together for years at that point."

"Oh, no one was shocked when people gossiped that you were sleeping together," she said. "I think the whole Circle just assumed that would happen from the day Anders joined the Grey Wardens. Just… _commitment._ It seemed unlike either of you."

Anders sighed. "And _that's_ why I wanted us to make it official. So people would stop assuming we were just…"

"A fling?" I suggested.

"Exactly," he nodded. "But anyways, the boys…" Anders went on to detail their individual strengths and weaknesses, and spell families he thought she should focus on. "I know I don't have to tell you, but Alistair doesn't want them getting any Circle, um…"

"Politics?" Petra suggested.

"Right," he replied.

"I figured as much," she said. "I never left the tower, but that doesn't mean I disagreed with the reforms. I just felt no need to leave my home. I liked teaching apprentices there, and I liked living by the water." She shrugged. "They picked me because I agree with His Majesty's views on mages. Irving respects the king too much to antagonize him by sending a mage to train his sons who would fill them up with Chantry self-loathing." We must have both looked relieved, since she relaxed instantly. "Anyways, where do they practice? You have a training room, I'd guess?"

"We do…" I began. "But…" She raised an eyebrow. "Petra, this building is full of Grey Wardens. Our practice spaces are filled with the most deadly mages in Ferelden on a constant basis. It isn't _safe_ for the boys. They'd be dodging fire spells that could burn Denerim to the ground!"

"Besides," Anders added, "the warding in there is really strong, just to keep the lot of us from bringing the building down around our ears; anything two nine year olds could cast wouldn't even register."

"So where do they…" Petra looked like she already knew the answer. Knew it, and didn't like it one bit.

"Outside," I said. "Either in the fields or up on the battlements."

"Oh Maker," she gasped. "Battlements? I don't think I could ever…"

"That's fine," I said. "But you'll probably want to get used to the outside." She looked slightly green. "Why not start with, um… something more _academic_? And move on to actual practice later?" I suggested. "Take a few days to get used to the air. Really, it doesn't take long." She looked dubious. "Or you can think I'm making this up since it's not like I went through the _exact_ same thing." I made a face and she laughed.

"Really, if you'd opened the coach windows between here and the tower you would be fine by now," Anders added before standing. "But I should make sure neither of them managed to strangle themselves with their belts."

Before leaving he looked over at me. "How long do you think a delivery from the Imperium would take?"

"Now?" I said, trying to decide. "It's about a week by boat with the good weather."

"Good," Anders said, nodding.

"Expecting something?"

He colored slightly, shrugging. "I, um, sent off a letter to the place we get our Warden robes from, when we got to Denerim. Ordered a couple child-sized robes. For the boys." Anders laughed. "Silly, I know. I figured they'd like having something nice, though."

"I'm sure they will," I said.

He beamed and left.

"You dote on those children like they were your own family," Petra said.

I shrugged. "Well, they basically _are_ my family. Alistair's practically my brother."

"Because of the Warden thing?"

"Because I love him." Laughing, I added "sounds silly, I know. But if someone talks about family Alistair's one of the three people who immediately come to mind. And I've known his sons their entire life. I held Duncan for his Chantry dedication." I paused. "Oh Maker, I'm sure some ass is out there now saying they _caught_ magic from me right now…"

"Magic isn't _contagious_," she said.

"Well I know that, you know that, everyone who isn't an _idiot_ knows that… but there's a whole lot of idiots out there." Sighing, I stood up. "Anyways, let me hunt down a maid or something to get you settled." She smiled, following me in the hall. I couldn't help snickering at how her eyes went wide as a couple of Wardens walked past us, young men covered in sweat from training wearing nothing but their leggings. I suppose we did seem strangely casual to outsiders.

That decided, I checked on Anders and the boys. They were outside again, running in circles with the dogs. "No robes?"

"They're _itchy_," Duncan said.

"Well, yes," I said. "The Circle uses cheap wool. I could have told you that."

"We'll get you something nicer," Anders said. I gestured to the sky and he looked up, wincing. "Oh, it's late."

"It is," I said. "We need to get moving."

Over objections we made them go inside to clean up. They seemed surprised to see us both in robes once we met again in the hallway. "They already know _we're_ mages," Anders said.

"I like your robes better," Duncan said to Anders. I could see him hiding a grin behind his hand.

They were quiet throughout the service, although both fidgeted constantly. "Sit still!" I whispered.

"I'm _hungry_," Duncan whispered back.

"We'll get food after," I said with a sigh.

I stopped to speak with the Revered Mother as I always did afterwards, introducing the children. Bryce began tugging on my sleeve. "Sorry," I said. "If we don't get them dinner I think they'll try and eat my cowl."

It turned out that they needed both dinner _and _ice cream to stop complaining of hunger. Not that I was complaining.

I was glad we had taken a wagon, since both boys fell asleep on the way home. With the help of spells to make me strong enough to lift one of them, we managed to get both inside and into bed. I paused in the doorway, looking back at them.

"Stop," Anders said, pulling me away and closing the door. "Don't torture yourself."

"It just… would have been nice."

"I know," he said. "It also would have led to a very neurotic child who constantly worried their parents were dead or captured whenever they went outside."

"Probably," I admitted.

"_Definitely_," Anders said, leading me into our bedroom. "Besides," he added, reaching back and unlacing my robes. "With kids underfoot we couldn't do _this_ nearly as often."

I laughed as he kissed my neck. "You're so smart."

"I have my moments," he agreed, pulling me across the room so we both fell onto the bed.

The next morning we were interrupted during breakfast by one of the maids. "Commander, Teyrn Cousland is here," she said before bowing and stepping out.

"I wish they wouldn't all _bow_," I said, standing up. "Better see what he knows."

I met him in the front hall and guided him to my sitting room. "Sorry," I said. "I don't have formal receiving rooms or anything. And my office is covered in Grey Warden secrets."

"Don't worry," he said. "I stopped here on my way home from Denerim."

"You made better time than Nathaniel," I said.

He shrugged, explaining that he had gone on horseback with a single guard, not in a wagon. That would do it. "So… after the longest debate in Ferelden history, Bryce… is out."

I nodded, unsurprised. "Anora's daughter Celia is now heir-presumptive. Bryce is _my_ heir, since I frankly don't see marriage or children in my future again, and should he want it, and should Anora have no other children, she's willing to name Duncan her heir to Gwaryn."

"As of now, I don't think he'd want it. But he's young…"

"Right," Fergus agreed.

"So, should I tell them?" I asked after a moment. "Bryce is going to be crushed."

"No," he said. "Keep it to yourself for now. Alistair and Elissa are leaving in a day or two, they should be here by the weekend."

I leaned back, thinking. "How did people react?"

He shrugged. "The usual divides. The traditionalists don't know _what_ to do with themselves, though. They want to keep the line of Calenhad, and they want to obey the Chantry. I thought Cerolic's head would fall clean off from how he was going in circles trying to decide what to do." I couldn't find that surprising. "One fool asked if we could make them _not_ mages. As if such a thing was possible!"

"Charming," I said.

"Ultimately the debate came down to Celia alone, or Celia as heir betrothed to Bryce who would be King-Consort." He shrugged. "It was a near thing. Much closer than I suspected. I think the royal line is more important than magic to a lot of people, though. Especially these days." He leaned forward. "I met her."

"Her?"

"Alistair's mother," he said. "It was… surprising."

"I can imagine!" I agreed. "She's a good woman. A bit rough, but… well, she's been a Grey Warden since before he was born." Gesturing my arm I laughed. "You see how we live here. We're warriors, not… normal people."

"I don't think he was going to tell me," Fergus admitted. "At the Landsmeet someone insinuated Elissa brought magic into the royal line, in a rather rude way. He shut them down, saying he had learned new information about his mother that confirmed it was from his side, not hers. I asked him after, and he, well, introduced us." Chuckling, he went on to say "people did always say Maric had a fondness for elven women… and you can tell she would have stopped people in the street back then."

"Oh, I'd heard that, too. I suspected his mother would be an elf long before I met Fiona." We both laughed at that.

We sat discussing the various reactions of the nobility. "The real challenge," Fergus finally said, "is what will happen when news of this leaves Ferelden. Orlais, Tevinter… who knows what they'll say."

"The Chantry," I added.

"_Especially_ the Chantry," he agreed. "Bryce isn't heir to the throne, but will that be enough…"

"I'd like to say yes," I said. "But I've given up on expecting anything close to sanity or reasonable behavior from those assholes in Orlais." He raised an eyebrow. "To say I hate the Divine and wish her an agonizing and slow death would be an understatement," I said. "I have my reasons. She's evil, sure as anything. I've spent my adult life hip-deep in evil. Evil doesn't use _logic_."

* * *

_Yeah, yeah... I was sucked in by DA2. No shock there. In fact, I've already started my DA2 fic, _Leap_. http: / / www. fanfiction. net /s /6856002 /1/ (remove spaces, go read, hint hint). I couldn't resist. It was all... Anders, and mage politics, and dysfunction junction companions. That's my favorite stuff to write about!_

_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, and as always, thanks so much for being patient with my new obsessions! I can't believe you've all stuck with me for A HUNDRED CHAPTERS! Wow!  
_


	101. I don't quite see the problem

I couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped my lips when the royal coach thundered away.

"I thought you liked kids," Anders teased.

"Apparently I like when they go home, too," I said. "Maker's ass, they're more exhausting than a fight!"

There had, just as Alistair had feared, been an attempt on their lives. Someone broke into the palace and was, thanks to Zevran and Leliana's people, swiftly captured. The public still thought of them as princes, however, even if they were mages. At his execution the crowds rushed the barricade, managing to force their way past the guards. He was ripped apart.

I can't pretend I was sorry to hear that.

When things remained calm for several weeks, save the beginning of whispers that the assassin had succeeded due to the disappearance of the boys, Alistair decided to bring them home.

Both wearing robes identical to the Grey Warden mages, they scrambled out of the house into their parents' arms. "What are you wearing?" Aliatair asked, somewhat horrified.

"Uncle Anders gave us robes like his!" Duncan announced.

"They came all the way from the Tevinter Inperium," Bryce added.

"Of that I have no doubt," Alistair said. "Seems like quite a bit is coming from there these days." Turning to me, he made a face. "You had my boys for three months and already managed to destroy their fashion sense?"

"I think they look very handsome," I protested. "You know those aren't just wool. They're blended with silk. And the embroidery is real silver."

"The griffins eyes aren't actual sapphire, though," Anders admitted. "Just glass. But the claws are amber!"

"How... nice," Elissa said, sounding as horrified as her husband. They didn't know anything about fashion, though. Both of them had small armies of people to pick their clothing out every day!

Jowan and Aidan passed by as we spoke. "Looking good, boys!" Aidan shouted with a wave.

"Maker, maybe being a Mage does make you incapable of dressing normally," Alistair mused.

Jowan walked over, looked at the royal couple in panic, and stuck out his hand in greeting. Retracing it immediately, he decided instead on a sloppy bow. "I never know what to do around you," he admitted.

"Yes, well... I suppose that's mutual," Alistair said stiffly.

"I just wanted to let you know they're very talented," he said. "Especially for having no training until now... They'll be marvels in no time. Probably better than me by the time they're twenty."

Alistair did look pleased by that. "Better than Maggie?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I said the were good. Not that they were freaks of nature," Jowan replied. "Be glad, I think she sacrificed part of her sanity for ice spells."

"I'm right here," I pointed out.

Jowan smirked. "And share with us what you did yesterday?"

"Nothing special," I said.

He laughed. "She had to be pulled back from setting someone in a tavern on fire after overhearing him wonder why anyone still cared about the Grey Wardens when the blight was so long over."

"Deserved it," I said. "Stupid idiot had a decade on me. Like he couldn't remember the blight or something!" Alistair only laughed and I invited them inside.

"So… what's going on with Tevinter?" I asked him once we were inside. The boys were packing their things in their room next to ours.

"Take a guess," he said. "They want us to form an alliance of some sort. As though that wouldn't end disastrously." He sipped his drink. "Can you even imagine? I think the Divine would personally lead the charge against us."

"True," I agreed. "And they would _know_ that."

He shrugged. "I think they're sick of being alone in the world. While I can't blame them for that, I won't ally Ferelden with a country that practices slavery."

I couldn't argue with that.

We made small talk, but neither of us had much news to share. Beyond the proposed, and swiftly rejected, alliance with Tevinter, Alistair had nothing new from Denerim. "Of _course_ there's rumors they caught magic from you," he laughed when I asked. "Have you ever _talked_ to some of the people in this country? Half of them still really believe the Old Hag is responsible for harsh winters!"

"I don't think it's _right_ for you to make fun of your people," Elissa said, although I could see the corners of her mouth twitch.

"Let's go with the raised in a barn excuse, then," he said. "I get a lot of use out of that one."

"Speaking of your childhood," Anders said, leaning closer, "how's your _mother._"

"Fine," Alistair said carefully.

"Fine?" we both replied at once.

"Well…" he began. "I'm happy. Don't get me wrong. But…"

"But?" I pressed.

"But she spent half an hour lecturing me on how letting the two of you watch the boys was a dangerous idea. And whenever someone comes to see me she _hides. _We were having lunch together when Teagan stopped by… I went to see him in and she was gone. Turns out she hid in a closet to avoid letting him see her!"

"What?" I burst out laughing. The idea of Fiona cowering behind the mops and brooms was too bizarre.

"She keeps saying it's for my own protection. She's honestly afraid my rule will be undone if people find out about her."

"She may be right," Anders said, "but I hardly think _Teagan_ is a great threat."

"He's _not,_" Alistair said. "And I told her that. After pulling her out of the closet myself." He shook his head. "And Teagan was perfectly polite. More than polite, really. He was charming. _Teagan-charming._"

"Teagan-charming?" I said.

"Oh, don't play dumb. You know how he is. Even _you_ were tripping over yourself when he started up with the 'my lady' stuff and the calling you lovely. It was hilarious." He paused, smirking. "Fiona was worse. She _blushed._"

"I can't imagine how," I said. "Orlesian men are a thousand times worse. I felt like half of them were wondering what I looked like under my robes."

"As opposed to the Ferelden men who most likely already know?" Alistair said.

Laughing, I elbowed him. "Hey now, those days are long behind me."

"I know. I heard the men of the circle had a funeral themed get together when you got married."

"Thanks," I said. "Anything else you want to add? You know my husband is sitting right here."

Alistair gave me a look of shock. Turning to Anders he shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this… but… she wasn't a virgin on your wedding night."

"Scandal!" Anders laughed. "Ah, I figured that," he said. "There's only so much one can attribute to beginner's luck and natural talent. But really… I'll take skill and expertise over the alternative any day of the week. I don't think any virgin could do the things she can with a well-applied frost spell." Anders smirked, looking at Alistair. "And _there's_ the blush. Good to know we can still get to you."

"I'm almost afraid of the day you can't," Alistair admitted. We shared dinner together and, the next morning, they were gone.

Things were calm, or as calm as life among the Grey Wardens can ever be, for months. I was working outside, helping a few of the younger mages get used to casting spells under a distraction, when one of our wagons thundered through the portcullis.

"Tobias?" I called, walking over. He hopped down. "What's going on?" They should have been well on their way to the front in Orlais.

"Borders are closed," he said. "We were turned away near Orzammar. Tried to go south and around, but the same thing there."

"Closed?" I tried to figure out why, and came up with nothing. "Our side, or theirs?"

"Both, I think," he said. "King's men said they were closed, but we were welcome to try. They made it pretty clear that Orlais didn't want anyone entering, either, though. Figured it wasn't something you would want us fighting them on."

"True," I agreed. "Could you send a letter across?"

"Gave it a shot," he said. "By boat. No idea if it'll get there. No one is taking passengers into Orlais, either, though." He looked suddenly chilled. "Boss… do you think they… that it…"

"No," I answered quickly. "No. If it woke you wouldn't need to ask. Believe me."

"Not like I have a choice about that," he said. "You're the only one we've got that would know."

Going back inside, I managed to hunt down Nathaniel in one of the training rooms. "Problem?" he asked.

"Maybe?" I said. "Wardens were turned away at the border."

"_What_?" He looked ready to hit something.

"Not for being _Wardens,_" I stressed. I should have probably considered my words more carefully. "The border is closed to everyone."

"That _can't_ be good," Nathaniel said.

"No, it can't," I agreed. Groaning, I pushed my hair back from my eyes. "You think I should get to Denerim?"

Nathaniel seemed to consider that. "Might as well," he said after a moment. "You're still a member of the Landsmeet. If you don't leave soon they'll probably summon you in a couple days. The king doesn't normally have the authority to just close the borders without a vote, so it has to be something serious."

"Oh good," I said. "Should be fun."

Anders and I left the next day, setting out on horseback, dogs at our sides.

We left that night, in our small two horse coach. The dogs began barking as we neared Denerim. Cresting the top of a hill, I could see why.

"Captain!" I called to the armored man leading the forces from the city. "What's going on?"

He looked at me with a start. "My lady," the man said with a salute, "your guess is as good as mine. Probably better."

"But where are you going?" I asked.

"To guard the border," he said. "Damned if I know why."

"This can't be good," Anders said quietly as we continued on our way.

I couldn't think of any reasonable argument otherwise.

We took up in an empty guest room kept on reserve for me at the Warden compound. Dropping our bags, I let Anders worry about getting us settled in while I rushed to the palace.

"Mags?" Alistair looked up with a start. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," I said. "What is going on?" Sitting across from him, I glanced at the papers on his desk. Most were, to my surprise, written in Orlesian. "My men were turned away at the border. Why?"

"Blast," he muttered shoving the papers aside. "I'm sorry. I should have made sure the guards knew Wardens could come and go. It totally slipped my mind that you've been sending people…"

"The potential of waking an archdemon _slipped_ your _mind_?"

"Well, sure, when you say it that way it sounds awful," he said. "But if I said, oh, 'I'm so worried about the potential of an Exalted March that I can't focus on anything else' it's much more understandable."

"What?" I said, nearly falling from my chair. "Why?"

"Apparently," he said, tone not hiding any bitterness, "my sons are proof of the Maker's displeasure with Ferelden."

I stared at him in shock. "That is utter and total _bullshit_."

He handed me a sheath of papers before pulling it back. "Sorry," Alistair said. "Forgot you can't read Orlesian. Here's the translation."

"I'm working on it," I said. It was true, too. I had been devoting several hours a week to learning Orlesian. "It's hard."

"I didn't think so," he said with a shrug.

I bit my lip. "No, I mean... When I was there. I didn't know what the templars were saying. It was better that way. Now I know."

Alistair stared at me blankly for a moment before he figured out what I was talking about. "Maker, I'm sorry," he said. "I never even thought of that."

"It's all right," I said.

Shaking his head, he looked thoughtful. "I can't imagine any of us could hope for better treatment now if they succeeded."

"So make sure they don't," I said. "I can't give you my Wardens, they can't be seen as taking sides, but you have me. I'll take a leave of absence if I have to."

"Will they let you?"

"Will I let them stop me?" I countered. "After what happened to me... Well, the Chantry made it _very_ personal. And the First Warden knows that." Without asking, I walked to the sidebar and poured myself a drink. I figured we were well beyond those formalities. Removing a pouch from my pocket, I sprinkled a few pinches of blue dust in, swirling the whiskey in my hand to mix it.

Alistair looked at me and sighed. "Really, Maggie?"

Sipping my drink I could feel the vice clamped around my head begin to loosen. "Not like I've got a choice," I said. "You know how my life is. This was inevitable."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why?" I asked. "I'm can afford it. And I'm one of the few people in Thedas with completely unrestricted access to lyrium. I'm not suffering."

"How long?" he asked.

"Couple months. Anders could get me put to rights, but all his work would be undone the moment I get in another fight." he looked ready to say something else and I coughed gently. "Warden, Alistair. About fifteen years now."

"True," he said after a moment. "I forget about... _that_. Sometimes."

"Wish I could," I said. "Anyways. We've found the one topic worse than what we had been discussing. Bravo for us. Now back to telling me when I can start killing templars. Soon, right? Please say it's soon."

"Don't be too excited," he said, pausing to slide a piece of paper to me.

I glanced down, skimming the royal seal and formal language. Finished, I read it two more times. "Is this a joke?"

"No," he said.

"Yes, it is," I said. "This isn't real."

"I called for the Landsmeet two days ago," he said. "No one has gotten here to _vote_ yet. Why do you think it's not signed or sealed?"

"Because this is a joke," I said.

"No, it's _not_," he repeated.

"You can't name me _Supreme General_ of the whole country's armies!" I said. "Are you _insane?_"

He sighed. "You're the best for the job."

I grumbled, tossing back the last of my drink. "There's several reasons this is a bad idea," I said. "First, I'm Commander of the Grey. I can't be that _and_ head of the Ferelden armies."

"It's a temporary position," he said. "Until the conflict is over."

"Second, that's… not a real thing, even. The _king_ is the supreme general of the army. Not someone else."

"It wouldn't be the first time," he countered. "Don't you dare make me say his name."

"Don't you dare put me in the same category as him," I snapped back, surprised Alistair would even be willing to acknowledge Loghain's achievements in life. "The only thing I know about commanding armies is what I learned _from him_. And I'm not half as good."

"Bull," he said. "You're better. You take more risks, and they usually pay off." He stared at me. "What else?"

"I…" the words were in my head, but I couldn't quite figure out how to say them. '_Because I'm crazy' _seemed too much an exaggeration. "I can't be trusted with this," I said. "Not against _them_." He stared at me and I winced. "I don't want to get into this."

"Maggie, I _need_ you. _Ferelden_ needs you. Tell me what the problem is."'

Sighing, I got up and refilled my glass. "Because… I'm not right," I said. "Ever since Orlais." Struggling to explain, I sat back down. "I dream of killing templars. Constantly. I see them and, if it isn't one I know personally, it's all I can do not to attack on site."

"Considering we're going to war against templars I don't quite see the problem."

"If we do well?" I said. "I _can't_ take a surrender from them. If they try I'd probably stab the messenger. I know it. I'll either cause a bloodbath, or die trying." I stared at him. "And you have no idea how badly I _want_ to. Maker, I want to scream that I'll do it and march tonight. Part of me doesn't even want to talk about this because if you have any sense you'll find someone else and all I can think of is how much I want to kill them _all_." Alistair gasped and made a quick motion. I felt my skin tighten and looked down in time to see ice receding on my hands.

"I… get your point," he admitted.

"So you'll find someone else?"

"No," he said. "But… I get your point."

"So… knowing I want nothing more than to turn your armies into my personal force for revenge… you still want me in charge?"

Alistair only laughed. "You're not a politician, Maggie. Look at it this way… I also know nothing other than death could make you admit defeat."

I could only laugh at that. "How are you even sure this will happen? Have they declared war?"

"Maker, no," he said. "They want to surprise us, they won't declare war in advance. We've got one of our people inside the Divine's residence as a handmaid."

"You trust her?" I said.

"Well, Leliana says she's one of the best she's ever seen," he said. "And… it is your cousin." He looked at me and made a noise of concern. "Mags? What's wrong? Don't you trust her?"

"What?" I said. "No, no, not that… I trust her. Just… Maker, even _Catherine_ learned Orlesian before me?"

* * *

_So I realized half the reason I wasn't updating was because of how long chapters had gotten. Averaging 6 to 7k each meant they all took a LOT of time. What's worse is that, since I don't want too many things happening each chapter in terms of major plot events, would start to include more and more filler. I've been averaging about 3k a chapter for my other stories, and figured that was a decent length._  
_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Slowly getting caught up on replying. It's another fun week of excessive overtime at the office for me. _  
_(oh, and by the by... if anyone uses an iphone,ipad,ipod touch, I found a great app called plaintext. Most of this chapter was written on it, and just polished once I got to a real word processor. Very nice for on the go writing.)_


	102. Did you find my manuscript?

Returning to my room, I crawled into bed without even bothering to undress.

"That bad?" Anders asked from where he was sitting near the window, book in hand.

"Worse," I replied. Pouring out the story, I rolled to my back, turning my head to him. "Nothing to say?"

Anders was silent for a long time. Rage-fueled lightning danced across his fingers. "I'm going with you," he finally said.

It sounded like he was preparing for an argument.

"Maker's breath," I said. "Of _course_ you are. You think I could manage without you? We're lucky I can wash my hair without you." Sighing, I was happy to see his anger recede. "Everyone knows you're the real brains between the two of us."

He relaxed and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. "So why are you this upset?" he asked. "I figured you were trying to tell me I'd be staying at the Keep while you ran off to play soldier again."

"Ass," I snorted. "Have I _ever _left you behind?" Needless to say, he couldn't argue. "I'm upset because I don't want to go to war. I…" biting my lip, I looked at the ceiling. "I don't know if we can win. The Chantry is so big, and powerful. Ferelden has the best soldiers in the world, but we're poorer, our weapons aren't as good, and they're just not as _many_ of us as there are of them. And of Orlais joins the Chantry…" I shuddered at the idea. At the moment I was pinning my hopes on The Empress seeing the current darkspawn crisis in her west as too important to be abandoned for some holy war… but I knew she still hoped to retake Ferelden. The temptation might be too high.

"Sure we can," he said. "Well… maybe." I raised my eyebrow and he shrugged. "Sorry, it is a longshot."

"I know," I said. "And I'm the worst person to be put in charge."

"Never stopped anyone from making you the boss before," he laughed. I made a face and he stretched out next to me. "Mags, you'll be fine. Alistair trusts you, that's why he wants you. Who else could be completely, totally, without a doubt trusted to be true to Ferelden? Most people would be tempted to attempt a compromise- especially with the Chantry saying their souls are on the line. You and I are some of the only people who really _know_ what they're capable of."

He was right about that. "I know," I said. "That's why I'm scared." He raised an eyebrow, not understanding me.

"You don't look scared," he said. "Now that you're actually talking… you look…"

"Excited?" I suggested.

"Well, yeah," he agreed.

"Scary, isn't it?"

He stared at me for a moment. "I don't know," Anders said finally. "Your bloodthirsty rages are kind of… fun." He sighed. "Except when you make that face. Then I know you'll be up all night plotting and scheming. Far less fun."

"Sorry," I offered. "Make it up to you tomorrow?"

"You'd better," he laughed, stripping and climbing into bed.

Glancing over, I couldn't help staring. "I… can get up early to plot and scheme," I muttered after a moment, pulling my robes off and crawling under the blankets with him.

It turned out to work much better that way, in any case. Anders and I were able to come up with several ideas I thought could be very surprising to the Chantry. Keeping them surprised would be, I decided, the best chance we had to win. We couldn't manage it on force of arms alone. Granted, being "surprising" was considered unethical in war- but I was fairly sure ethics could be flexible when your ultimate goal was to kill someone before they killed you.

The next day we had lunch with Catherine. "I thought you were in Orlais," I said when she arrived.

"Orlais?" she laughed. "I can't speak more than ten words in Orlesian. What a waste of time sending me would be! I'd probably confuse the soup for one of those silly sauces they love and dump it on my chicken."

"That's what Alistair said…" I replied. I had no idea why Alistair would make something like that up, which must have been obvious from my face. She only laughed even harder.

"Oh, him," Catherine giggled, waving her hand. "He joked he would tell you I was the top spy. You know, to make me look good. Let my big important cousin know she didn't make a mistake getting me a job. I said that was silly and you'd never believe it. The king just said you believe everything he tells you no matter how absurd." Even Anders burst out laughing at that. "I did pick up the message at the border, though," she added, mouth full. "Leliana says hello."

"She knew I'd be here?" I asked.

Catherine shrugged. "She knew we'd be going to war. Who else would His Majesty send for besides his favorite old war buddy."

"Am I old enough to be someone's old war buddy?" I mused.

"Yes," she and Anders replied at once. I made a face at them.

After the meal was over I met with Alistair again. Eamon was sitting in the corner, looking tired and old. He greeted me warmly, though. I remembered to ask after his son, he had apparently just made Enchanter. "Did you recall the troops in Orlais, fighting the archdemon," I asked Alistair once we settled in and began working.

"Not yet," he answered. "I thought, once I did, it would be a sign to the Chantry that we knew."

"From all we can tell," Eamon said, "they don't believe we have any intelligence network to speak of. They think the dog lords aren't quite capable of that level of sophistication."

I laughed at that. "Well, we did need to import an Orlesian and Antivan to manage it," I said.

Eamon made a face at me. "They are both citizens of Ferelden," he said. "And Leliana is of Ferelden blood, is she not?"

I bit into an apple, chuckling. "I'm only teasing, calm down." "And yes, they will know once our troops are recalled, although we _do_ need them." I paused, thinking. "But I don't want you to recall them _completely_." He looked at me and I grinned.

"We need them here, Maggie," Alistair finally said, voice strained. "If you can't… put aside the duties of a Warden…"

I waved my hand. "Not what I mean," I said. He was worried I cared more about the potential archdemon. And while I _did,_ since an archdemon was a threat to all lives, not only ours, I trusted Alain and the other Wardens to function without me. "You're going to _pretend _to recall them. And they will _look _like they're leaving Orlais. I want them to hole up in the mountains outside the border, though."

I had been hoping Alistair would figure my plan out, but maybe it was better he didn't. If he did, I suppose anyone else would, too. "What are you planning?" he finally asked.

"Box them in," I said finally. "We know they're coming, and we fight them there. Once the Chantry makes their move our people can come out of hiding, and we box them in."

"And if they don't fight us there?"

"Then the templars have learned to fly and we have bigger problems to worry about," I said. "It's a mountain pass. What else would they do?"

"By boat?" he suggested.

"Then we watch the coast. Boats are wood. Even on water, wood burns. Mages and archers can handle that. They get any closer… we freeze them in place."

He snorted. "And when the templars dispel the ice holding them there?"

"They find the crushed hull is anything but magical, and sink."

He stared at me for a moment. "Your hands are shaking."

"That's only because I'm bloody terrified," I said. "And in one of those moods where I want to make things die. Mostly terrified, though. Ignore it. The plan will work." I folded my hands together, trying to forget about things like _templars_ and _chantry_. It didn't work, especially since our current topic of discussion was _templars _and _chantry_.

I was, evidently, becoming both bloodthirsty and a coward in my middle age. What a strange mix.

He shifted in his chair. "Maybe… Maybe I should find someone else—"

"No," I said. "I _want_ this. I can do this. It's just…" Trailing off, I glanced at the wall. Someone had hung a colored glass sun from the sash- the symbol of Andraste. "I can count on one hand the templars I stand to be around. "Bryant, Irminric, Charles…"

"Isn't that basically every templar at the Chantry in Amaranthine?"

"Yes," I said. "Oh, and Elizabeth. They added a new one, since attendance has gone up so much. They're expanding on the building. She's… interesting."

"Interesting?"

I shrugged. "Female templars are always unusual. She's quite the reformer, though. Keeps asking me for armor advice when I go to Chantry." Shrugging, I made a face. "Female templars don't scare me."

He sighed, nodding. "I can understand… well, not _understand_, but—"

"Right," I cut him off. "I don't want to talk about that. Anyways, I just mean beyond them… I still don't like being around templars."

"You didn't mention Greagoir," he said with a smirk after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm _never_ comfortable around Greagoir."

Alistair did laugh then. "You know you love the old geezer. I remember when you told me he was starting to get sick from the lyrium. You had _tears_ in your eyes. You!"

"Did not," I said.

"Worst liar ever," Alistair teased, pointing at me. He leaned back, still chuckling. "Frightening as it sounds, I think he and Irving are the closest thing you might have to parents. Don't even deny it. You can't help it, though. You've known them longer than that great ass who actually _is_ your father."

"Heard about him, did you?" I asked. I hadn't mentioned Hob since meeting him- I preferred pretending I hadn't met him, to be completely honest. Knowing he was out there, and actually _worse_ than I could have imagined, wasn't easy. Knowing I was probably _better off_ in the tower was even more annoying.

"Leliana told me, I guess Catherine mentioned him." He paused. "After she and her brothers went to live with him he tried smacking her around. She ended up winning the fight."

"I'm not surprised," I said. "He's an ass, and she's a good fighter." I suppose, even if I hadn't been a mage, my life with him would have been just shy of intolerable at best. I didn't know if that changed things. Even Anders acted like Hob simply didn't exist. He said seeing what he called my 'convictions' shaken was disturbing.

"I need to go home," I said finally.

"We don't have much time," Alistair pointed out.

Nodding, I got up and poured myself a drink. Since it was early I watered the wine. "I _know_ that, Alistair. That's why I have to head home. I need to talk to Nathaniel. There's things I have to do."

* * *

Anders was quiet on the way back. "What is it?" I finally asked.

"Nothing."

"Don't do that," I said, urging my horse faster so I could keep pace with him.

He sighed. "I'm not looking forward to this," Anders finally said. "I'd rather not talk about it."

I didn't press the subject until that night, when we were alone in our room at some filthy inn. "Can you tell me why you're upset?" I asked him.

He flopped back to the bed, looking annoyed. "You're not very good at this 'don't want to talk about it' thing, are you?"

"No," I admitted. "You're angry with me. I don't like that."

Grumbling, he pulled his legs up, folding them. "I'm not angry with you. It's this whole thing… I just…" Anders stopped talking, looking annoyed. "You're going to end up some big hero again and… I'm sick of sharing you with the world. I know we have our duty, and you'll never _really_ abandon the Wardens… but I wanted a few years just for us, before… well, _that._"

"You don't share me with the _world_," I said, sitting next to him.

"Oh, so only Ferelden, then? Well, that's _much_ better."

He looked annoyed, and rolled his eyes at me. "Anders, you heard of me before we met, right?"

"No, I had spent a year living in a cave," he deadpanned. "Well, actually part of that year _was_ spent living in a cave… but it wasn't quite that remote."

"And how much of what you heard was right?"

Getting my point, he relaxed slightly. "Surprisingly little," Anders admitted. "Oh, everyone said you were pretty… although I personally think the rumors underestimated you. The rest was mostly rubbish."

"Well, there," I said. "The person they think they know doesn't even _exist."_ Curling up closer to him, I brushed his hair back from his face. "Please don't be mad. Really, you're probably the only person who actually knows me. Everyone else knows only bits and pieces. You know the whole thing. Even all the really lousy bits. That you don't hate me for some of it still amazes me."

"Lousy bits?" he said, almost laughing now.

"Don't even try that," I said. "Now you're just trying to butter me up. You could write a book of my flaws. Sometimes I suspect you have."

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, smirking. "Did you find my manuscript?"

At that, we both laughed. "I do appreciate the faith you have in me, though," I said. "Really, I'll end up some big hero? I suspected I would end up dead on the battlefield."

"You always say that," Anders countered.

"Because I always think it."

Anders got up, building a small fire in the dirty fireplace. "You have to admit," he said, stacking the wood carefully, "part of you is just _thrilled_ at the idea of being unleashed against as many templars as you can kill."

He cast the spell to light the blaze and faced me again, eyebrow raised.

"A bit," I admitted.

Sighing dramatically, he returned to sit with me again. "Oh, my mother was right. Never get involved with a soldier, she said. They would always have only two things on their minds."

"Two?" I asked.

"Two," Anders repeated. "Fighting, she said. Never did mention the other. Told me I was too young to understand." He chuckled, unbuckling my cape and tossing it to the ground. "I think I've actually gotten old enough to have figured it out on my own, though."

"Have you?" I asked, sighing as he pushed my robes from my shoulders.

"I think so," Anders said. He grinned as I began removing his clothes almost as quickly as he was stripping me of my own. "Of course, being little more than a soldier myself, I can't find much to complain about."

I sighed as his hand slipped between my legs. Anders looked over, grinning at me. "I'd love to know what maleficar trick you use to look the same as you did the day we met." He was a liar, but it was flattering so I didn't say anything.

Rolling me to my stomach, he bit the back of my neck before letting my hair down. "Funny, I don't remember you seeing so much of me the day we met," I said, giggling.

"Sure I did," Anders replied. "In the dungeons, the Keep yard, on the stairs… Maker, the way you woke me after the Joining was _scandalous_." I shifted, looking at him over my shoulder. "Well… that's how _I_ like to remember it, at least. My imagination may have filled in a few blanks."

Rolling over, I laughed. "Perfect memory of all things imaginary."

"That's me!" Anders said brightly. I reached up, unbinding his hair. He chuckled, shaking it out. "Too long," he muttered.

"No," I said.

"Bossy, bossy," he replied, hand between my legs.

"I _am_ your boss," I said between gasps.

"Not right now, you're not. And you're not the boss of my _hair_, Maggie."

"Not right now," I agreed. "But if you cut your hair I'll cut mine. It's annoying to tie it up every day!"

He groaned, burying both hands in my hair and leaning close to tuck his face between my neck and shoulder. "Fine, you win," Anders muttered.

"I like when I win," I replied, hooking a leg around his waist.

"Mmm…" he mumbled as I ground my hips against his. "I like it when you win, too." Smirking once more, he pulled free of my leg, sitting up. "Come here," Anders whispered.

Shaking my head, I smiled at him. He groaned, falling to his back, when I began swirling my tongue around him. When I began to suck he arched his back, mumbling my name. I could feel his fingers in my hair. Glancing up, I met his eyes and smiled, or tried to as best I could. That was all the permission he needed. Gripping my hair tightly, Anders began thrusting up into my mouth. His breath came out in gasps, strangled cries to the Maker on his lips. With a final shout he sank back into the rough bed.

Grinning, I sat up, wiping my mouth.

Still catching his breath, he looked over at me. I gave a shriek of laughter as Anders lunged at me grabbing my shoulders and shoving me to my back. His hands and mouth moved across me as he shifted, kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed. Grabbing my hips, he pulled me closer and smirked. His tongue and fingers soon had me shaking and crying out his name.

"I swear," Anders whispered, "I'll never get tired of hearing you scream my name."

That was, as far as I was concerned, practically a request. When he rose to sit on the edge of the bed, I climbed up into his lap, straddling him. Sinking down, I sighed his name. Leaving one foot stretched out on the floor so I could move easier, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Anders' skin burned like fire against mine. When laying down we were never so close, it was easy to forget how warm he always was. "So good," I gasped between kisses. I wrapped my arms and leg tighter around him.

Shaking, I nearly fell off the bed, my leg giving out. That only served to drive Anders deeper into me, pushing him over the edge with a cry. Still clutching at each other, we both fell back to the bed with mutual sighs of contentment.

Pushing my hair back, Anders kissed my forehead. "Don't you dare die on me," he whispered.

"I could say the same to you," I replied. "In fact, I will say the same."

"Deal," he replied, rolling to his back and climbing into the bed. I joined him and, after a moment, realized he was shifting around as much as me. "Mags?"

"I'm starting to think…" I muttered, climbing out and inspecting my skin.

"Right," he said in agreement, stepping out of bed as well. We both eyed it warily. It was covered with furs, not a proper blanket. While not unheard of, it was a particularly… rustic way to sleep.

"Drain life?" I suggested.

"Should do the trick," he replied. I cast the spell and shook the fur out near the fire, making a face as dead fleas tumbled to the floor.

Anders looked at my skin and clucked his tongue, casting a few spells on me, and then himself, to heal the bites. Crawling back into bed we settled much more comfortably. After a moment he began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"We've slept in tents, abandoned buildings, crumbling haunted towers… even prison cells. Maker, I even lived in a _cave_ for a time. And now…" Shaking his head, he looked over at me with a smirk. "A few bugs drive us out of bed. I hate to admit it, but I think we've _really_ become nobles."

* * *

_I will admit, this is getting harder to write since I know how little of it is left (and that's putting aside the more logistical troubles like 'requires more focus than I can give on my lunch hour' and 'I work far too many hours a week.' Since I know what's going to happen, part of me feels like Maggie's story is "done," so to speak. But then, I hate leaving her behind. I'm clearly insane._

_As always, thanks so much to everyone who has stuck with me through SO MANY CHAPTERS. _


	103. you literally can't even spell the word

_I'm not dead! (See, I said I wasn't!). Finally mostly settled into my new apartment. At least enough where I can justify sitting down to write instead of thinking "ack, I need to make curtains still!" or whatever. I've had a ton of personal chaos the last few months, but I'm finally back! I'm so sorry for making everyone wait this long!_

* * *

Nathaniel raced out to meet us near the Keep's gate. "Zevran beat you here," he said, helping us with our bags before shouting for a stablehand. "You just missed him. So… war again, then?"

"Again… still…" I shrugged. "I can't decide which. _Still_, I think. I'm always fighting one war or another." Glancing around, I winced. "And the war I'm abandoning for this one never ends."

"Exactly," Nathaniel said, understanding my meaning but not the emotion behind my words. "The darkspawn will still be here if-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat, "when you come back."

"Right," I sighed. "You good to handle things here?" I laughed before he could respond. "Maker, you're better at that than I am. I just hate leaving it all on you."

Nathaniel waved his hand dismissively. "That's my job. I like having something to do, and this is certainly something to do." We passed through the main hall, going straight to our joint office. "What will you tell the First?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "I guess… that I'm taking a personal leave of absence?" Sitting down, I waited for the maid serving us tea to depart. "It is in our best interest," I said once we were alone. "The Wardens need mages. _All_ Wardens need mages. The Chantry has made it very difficult for us to get and keep them for years…"

"Probably forever," he said with a nod. "But, if we don't succeed…" Nathaniel leaned back, stroking his salt and pepper goatee. "If we don't succeed, this could paint the Wardens in a very bad light all over Thedas."

"I know," I agreed. "That's why I'm taking a formal leave. That way they have plenty of proof I wasn't acting as a Grey Warden. I won't be Warden Commander. The order can write me off as a crackpot or whatever, some lunatic fighting her personal crusade."

"You're the most famous Grey Warden alive today," he countered. "Leave or no, people will _always_ remember you as a Warden." He sipped his tea, looking thoughtful. "Strange as it sounds, I'd almost be a better choice for this… people will always remember me as a Howe. I'll never really get out from under that shadow. The Wardens will be secondary in any legacy I leave behind."

"Being a Howe isn't such a bad thing," I said. "Your sister and her son are well respected. Aren't they?"

"Yes," he admitted. "But it's _despite_ what my father did. And it will be for as long as I'm alive, and maybe longer still. My sister is a good woman, and in the same breath anyone says that, they contrast her to our father. My nephew is growing into a strong, honest man… and whenever people comment on it, they can't help but add how good a change it is from the boy's grandfather." He shrugged. "No changing it. I'm personally just glad we're not seen as monsters by association. Being seen as good, despite his actions, is certainly better than having people suspect we're no better." Nathaniel looked sad. "I just wish I was here. What he did… that wasn't _him_. Sure, he was never the kind of father to tell jokes, but he wasn't _evil._"

I tried not to sigh. Nathaniel always became melancholy… well, _more_ melancholy when his father came up in conversation. I'd heard just enough of the stories from his childhood to think Rendon Howe was a lunatic from birth to death, and his actions were less horrific before the blight began only because he didn't think he would get away with such things. Telling one of my best friends his father was probably always a lunatic and killer in his heart wasn't exactly the best plan, though. "You know," I mused, remembering a conversation I'd had with Anders once, "I can't help but wonder if something was physically wrong with him. In his head." Nathaniel looked up at me, curious. "Anders once had a patient who suddenly started acting different. A friendly old enchanter suddenly became sarcastic, crude, and mean to everyone. It turns out there was this…_thing_ growing in her head. Once that was taken care of, she was back to normal. Maybe your father had something like that."

"Maybe," Nathaniel said with a shrug. "He was doing a bit more than telling crude stories and being _mean_, though."

"Yeah," I agreed with a sigh. "Here, how does this sound?" I passed him a piece of paper. While we talked I had been writing out my letter to Weisshaupt. I had, in reality, been writing it since leaving Ferelden. This was merely putting it to paper.

_First Warden Etzel-_

_Since I don't know how to phrase this with grace and delacacy, it seems reasonable to get straight to the point: I require a leave of absence from my position as Warden Commander of Ferelden, and from the Grey Wardens. My nation and king need me, and I can't refuse. While I believe my actions will be to the benefit of the Grey Wardens in the long term, both here in Ferelden and throughout Thedas, I know I could never command an army while still holding the title of a Warden without compromising our political neutrality._

_ Should the Maker smile on me once again, and allow me to return home, I will happily resume my duties among the order. But, if you feel my actions now would permanently damage my ability to command the Grey I will understand. It would break my heart, but in that case I would retire to Denerim to live as a private citizen within the royal palace until it is time for me to go underground for my last battle._

"You've got this all planned out," Nathaniel said, passing it back to me after making a few corrections. "I have to admit, it's difficult not to laugh knowing you _literally_ can't even spell the word delicacy."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I was busy mastering control over the very elements themselves when everyone else was practicing their spelling."

"You use that excuse for everything," he said, still smirking. "Anders can spell. Jowan can spell. Aidan can spell. It's just you who writes things looking like you've grasped the pen in your teeth and picked letters from a hat."

"I hate you," I sneered.

"You're a lousy liar, Maggie," he said, laughing out loud now.

I made a chattering gesture at him. "Watch yourself, Howe. Don't make me run into battle screaming 'Grey Wardens Forever!' just to cause you trouble."

"You think that won't cause _you_ just as much trouble once this is over?"

I was quiet for a moment. "I… don't expect to come back," I said quietly.

He snorted. "Maggie, after everything that _hasn't _killed you, I suspect that you're practically immortal at this point."

"I'm a mage," I said, "going against an army of _templars_. What do you think will happen? They'll smite me, I'll try to keep going, and end up collapsing."

"So… why are you doing this, then?" he said after considering it for a moment. "You and Anders are both mages, if you suspect that's what will happen…"

"Alistair needs us," I said. "Well, he needs _me_, but I need Anders. You know I get too worried to function when I don't know where he is."

He nodded. "You know, if anyone else was in charge they would never tolerate the two of you—"

"But no one else is in charge," I said quickly. "The benefit of being the boss is that if I want to keep my husband with me, I can. I figure I've earned it after all I've done for the Wardens." Nathaniel didn't seem to have an argument to that.

"When are you leaving?" he asked after a moment.

"Couple days," I said. "I want to rest up a bit, and say goodbye to everyone. But we don't have a lot of time to spare. The Chantry hopes they can take us by surprise. We won't let that happen."

"Not much surprise if the borders are closed," he said.

I shrugged. "I guess it isn't that unusual when we have internal issues. They can think we've closed the borders because of the princes. Because we're being, um… preemptive."

I spent the next several days with my closest friends. Nathaniel and I talked, in a forced casual fashion, about our hopes and dreams for the order. He didn't say it, but I knew he was planning on how to proceed if I didn't return.

"One thing," I said over dinner the night before we left.

"What's that?" he asked.

"If you build any statues of me I will _haunt you_ forever." Looking at me in surprise, Nathaniel laughed after a moment.

"I think Ferelden has _more_ than enough statues of you sitting around, don't you? I suspect no one's had their likeness carved as often since Calenhad!"

"Exactly," I said. "And I'm no Calenhad."

"Maker knows no one would argue that!" We both laughed, along with everyone else in the room.

"Why you doing this, Mags?" Oghren said after a moment. "You're acting like a woman walking to her death. You don't have to fight Ferelden's battles." I opened my mouth and he waved his hand, "and if you tell me it's because Alistair needs you I'll smack you upside the head. We both know he can lead the army as well as you."

I was silent for a moment. "I have to," I said finally. "I… this is my fault. Maybe not all of it, and yeah, the boys were the final straw. But we all know I'm a big part of why the Chantry hates Ferelden right now. I can't make other people die for my cause and sit at home."

"The darkspawn are your cause," he countered.

"What, I can't have two causes?" I said. "You know I've always stretched how neutral we are to make a point. Wardens used to have only one mage at a time. I broke that one my first _day_ as Commander."

"And thank you for that," Anders said, squeezing my arm.

Oghren turned his attention to him. "And you," he said, pointing a finger. "Bring her back alive." After a pause he shrugged. "And yourself, too, while you're at it."

The next morning all the Wardens decided to assemble. Word had spread quickly- most of the Peak's garrison was crammed into our main hall along with the normal residents.

"Wow," I mumbled, looking out at the crowd. There were more than two hundred people shoved into the room, and there hadn't been time for anyone from the further outposts to join us. "There's a lot of us now…" Everyone chuckled and I shook my head, trying to focus. "So…" I began, wishing I'd prepared something in advance. "I'm sure you know this already, but I'll be leaving. Today." I realized how silly that sounded and blushed. _Obviously_ they knew, why else would everyone have shown up to see me off? "It isn't a decision I made easily," I said. "The Wardens have been my home for just about half of my life at this point. They're more of a family than I ever dreamed possible. But… right now, Ferelden needs me more." Wringing my hands, I went on. "When I joined, there were barely more than a dozen of us. Most didn't make it out of Ostagar. When I became commander I was the only active Warden in the nation. I'm sure you all know the stories. To see us now… just seeing all of you… I'm _so so_ amazed by what we've built together. From nothing we've become a force to be reckoned with. We've saved countless lives and pushed the darkspawn back, both here and in Orzammar. We've shared our skills with brothers and sisters everywhere. From nothing, we've managed to become one of the most respected branches in the order." There were cheers and claps to that.

Glancing around, I was amazed to see how many of the people I had recruited in the crowd. It wasn't until I saw everyone together that I realized how many there were. "I'm not the Grey Wardens," I said. "I'm _nothing_ on my own. _We _are the Grey Wardens, and none of this could have happened without all of you. And if…" I paused, wiping my face when I realized I was crying. "If I don't come back… I want everyone to know how very, very proud I am of everything we've built together."

Saluting, I was surprised to see the crowd part. Everyone stood at attention as I walked out, followed by Anders and Nathaniel. I had been embarrassed by the tears pouring freely down my cheeks until I glanced around and realized I wasn't the only one.

* * *

_Shorter than I'd like usually, but when you find a good place to stop, you don't argue._ _Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews, and who patiently waited for me to get my life in order for so long._


	104. You take that back

"You're not going to die," Anders said.

"Really?" I replied, moving my horse closer to his. "That's news to me. Last I checked, everyone died eventually."

"That's not what I mean," he said, glowering at me. "I mean _now_. You're acting like this is the end. It's not." I raised my eyebrow, glancing over at him. He shrugged as much as possible while riding. "Well, it doesn't have to be."

"I know _that_," I said. "But I want to be prepared for the worst." I paused. "I wanted _them_ to be prepared for the worst. I mean, even if I don't die now, I will eventually. Sooner rather than later, when you think about it."

"I prefer _not_ to think about it," Anders said.

We were headed to the Circle of Magi. I had decided it would be an excellent first stop. That was, of course, before I decided to stop in every town and village we passed to wave my 'Hero of Ferelden' flag and do my best to recruit for the army.

"It never gets any easier," Anders mused as we stood on the shore looking at the tower as the boat approached.

"No," I agreed. Several mages were milling about on the shore. One was painting a picture of the tower, a young couple were walking hand in hand, another pair seemed to be returning from a dinner in Kinloch Hold. "It's certainly different, though," I admitted. I could see numerous figures on the island outside the tower as well, bright blue robes visible from a distance. Once on the boat I realized they were all not only apprentices, but children. One bored templar sat leaning against a wall, book in his hands.

"You should be watching them," Anders chastised him as soon as we were off the boat.

He raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, and why did you disguise yourself as Anders?" the templar asked drily. "Besides, I can only think of one idiot who tried to swim for shore and, oh, wait… that was _you_."

Anders rolled his eyes. "Not to keep them from escaping, _idiot_. You should watch them since you've got _four year olds_ running like lunatics on a rocky shoreline near a very deep lake. One of them might get hurt!"

The templar glanced over just in time to see a couple children attempting to climb a moss covered rock at the shoreline. One stumbled, nearly slipping back into the water. "Right," he said, climbing to his feet. "You may have a point." Walking off, we could hear him warning the kids away from the rocks as Anders and I went inside.

"You would be such a good father," I mused as we walked inside.

"Not really," Anders said. I glanced up at him, confused. "I saw a couple of teenagers skinny dipping not far from there. Figured they'd appreciate getting the kids away from the shore."

"I stand corrected," I said with a laugh. "You're a bad man."

"Oh, I am," he said, grabbing my backside, causing me to yelp in surprise as the door opened.

A templar waved us in, looking vaguely annoyed. I saw Greagoir sitting not far away, reading a book on a bench. He was pointing something in it out to a young mage not far away. Glancing up at the noise, he smiled warmly, rushing over to us. "It's so good to see you," he said, pausing. I shifted, trying to hide my discomfort as I realized he had no idea what my name was. "You two," he finally said, looking pleased with himself for finishing the sentence.

"And you, Greagoir," I said, giving him a hug. It seemed strange to hug the man who was the focus of almost all my frustrations in life for so long, but seeing him with his hair grey, wearing faded old-man clothes instead of armor, it was difficult to stay angry. Especially when he seemed so completely thrilled to see us.

"I thought you were in Amaranthine," Anders said.

"Too hot there," he said, sounding annoyed. "Far too hot. I'll go back when it gets cold." He shook his head. "I don't know how you can stand the heat."

Anders and I glanced at each other, not sure how to respond. "We spend most of our time underground," I finally said. It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't a complete lie, either.

"Right, right," he said, nodding and shuffling off, with a gesture for us to follow. "Our famous Grey Wardens."

We followed him to the stairs where, to my surprise, he led us straight to Irving's office.

_Not Irving_, I reminded myself. _Torrin._ Irving had retired. He was still _in_ the office, but now on the opposite side of the desk, sipping tea.

"Is it that time of year again?" the new First Enchanter asked, looking up. "How many this time?"

"All of them," I said after a moment. "Ferelden's going to war." They looked at me in shock. "I'm on a leave of absence from the Grey Wardens. Right now I'm here as Supreme General of the Ferelden army."

Torrin sighed. "When I told you that you should get working if you wanted to change the world… I wasn't being _serious_, Margaret."

"And yet, here we are," I replied, dropping into a chair. "No one ever warned you about how literally I took everything?" He didn't reply and I figured it was best to get to the point. "Well?" I asked.

"Is this a royal order?" he asked, carefully weighing each word.

"Nope," I said. Considering the war was, more than anything, because of all the rights mages had been given, I assumed it wouldn't _have_ to be a royal order. I was starting to wonder if I should have taken the paperwork Alistair offered, though.

He nodded and, an hour later, I found myself on stage in the main assembly hall being asked the very same thing again.

"So… do we _have_ to?" one mage asked. He was young, probably not long from his apprenticeship. I didn't recognize him.

"You don't _have_ to," I said, feeling more annoyed. "It is strongly encouraged that you do, though."

"By who?"

I narrowed my eyes. "By _me," _I said. "_And_ if I don't get enough volunteers I will start conscripting people. And those people will be answerable directly to me instead of tossed into the army with everyone else since I'll probably be pretty annoyed at that point. I've spent the last fifteen years commanding the most elite fighting force in the nation… you probably don't want to be answerable directly to me. My standards? _Really_ high."

I could see Anders sitting with a group of mages our age, I recognized most of them. He had put his hand to his face, shaking his head. I couldn't exactly react to that, though, since dozens of people were yelling at me.

I listened for a moment, trying to pick out individual complaints. A few people saying that they weren't really freed, they were just made slaves of the army, a few people refusing to go… most just yelling to yell, from what I could gather. And even then, it was just a small, but extremely loud, minority.

"_Quiet!"_ I shouted, lightning arcing above their heads to get the crowd's attention. The voices stopped and everyone watched me warily. "The next person to interrupt me gets frozen. And don't think you'll resist my spell. I've killed tougher mages than all of you." I folded my arms and glared at the loudest complainers. "This war is because of you, of _us_. Every one of us knows that. The Chantry wants to take control of Ferelden because mages have been freed. Period. End of story. Every other detail is just an offshoot of that. So tell me what happens when the rest of the nation sees their sons and daughters die? When fathers don't come home? And all while mages stay safe in their island fortress? Want to think about that one for a bit?" No one said anything, I saw a few people shift in their seats. "Or, what happens if we lose?"

There were more complaints and I shrugged, my hands held out. "What? Want me to lie? Promise a glorious victory? I don't know that any more than you. But I do know we don't stand a chance in the black city without mages. You stay here? We lose. We lose, the Chantry wins. And then… what will they do to you?" More shifting. I tried not to smirk, knowing I'd won.

We left with far more volunteers than I had estimated possible.

"I really can't believe you did that," Anders said once we were on the road again.

"Did what?"

"You _bullied_ those people into helping," he said. His voice was strained and I could see him clenching and unclenching one fist.

"You're mad at me?" I looked over at him on his horse. Griffon balked slightly, wanting to edge away from my angry husband.

"Damn right I'm mad!" he snapped. "What, you fight to free the mages just so _you_ can start controlling their lives? They're not your personal army!"

"Don't give me that!" I snapped back. "If they want to be free they can fight for it, like we have. It's their damned lives, they can do something to improve them. Maker's breath, what, should I do _everything_ for every mage in Ferelden while they sit home and knit?"

"This isn't them fighting because they want to," he countered. "It's them fighting because you gave everyone no other choice." He made a face at me. "You terrified everyone into doing just what you want."

"Bullshit!" I snapped, pulling back on the reins and stopping in the road. "Bull. Shit." I glared at him, angry that Anders would think so little of me. "I terrified them into saving their own damned lives!"

He snorted. "Really? Will you be telling that to the casualties?"

"Will you say they're safe when the templars overrun us?" I countered. "We need mages. We need mages or we fail. We fail, the templars come in, and you _know_ what they'll do…" I snarled, yanking at the reins to keep my horse in check. "If they need a bit of bullying to keep them from being beaten and raped later, fine. I really didn't feel like telling an auditorium of almost everyone I grew up with just how much I know about Chantry justice."

He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Mags," Anders began, voice softer than usual, "what happened to us won't necessarily happen to them."

"It won't," I agreed. "Most would just be killed. They're not famous or important enough to make a good hostage or impressive public execution." Anders didn't respond, so I went on. "And if we do win without them, they can probably expect an uprising against mages in the very near future by the common people. Knowing they didn't fight when the army suffered massive casualties would be… bad. And without them there _will _be massive casualties since most healers happen to be mages. Bad in the 'normal people doing their damndest to kill mages everywhere' sort of way."

He was silent for a long time as we rode on, darkness gathering over us. "You're right," Anders finally agreed. "I don't like what you did… but I can understand why. Maybe some day they will, too."

"Maybe," I said. "If not… well, they're better equipped to survive this than the normal troops. Mages can heal themselves." He glanced over at me, already snickering. "Don't even—"

"But Maggie…" Anders began.

"Shut up."

"Heal themselves?"

"Shut _up_," I repeated, knowing he would ignore me.

"I don't think it's fair to assume _all_ of them can heal themselves," he said, far too cheerful. "Or are you finally admitting that you are, in fact, the _worst_ healer in all of Thedas?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." He laughed and galloped ahead before I could hit him.

By the time we arrived at the northern border a massive force had gathered. Anders pointed out that people might feel better if they saw me looking confident, so we took a walk through the general camp. "You know," I whispered, "you do make a fairly convincing Nathaniel when you have no other option."

"You take that back or the only thing sharing your bunk will be your dog."

"The dog is smelling a lot fresher these days," I mused before tugging on his less than clean beard. I snickered, trying to look serious when a few of the soldiers glanced our way. "Fine," I whispered, "you remain utterly incompetent. Just like me. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." He glanced around. "So much so that I think I'll accost those young men and confiscate their rum. Or ask for a glass."

"You have fun," I said, waving as I continued on to our camp. It would, at some point, become the King's Camp, but Alistair was still on his way. Apparently until he arrived everyone would keep on calling it "The Commander's Camp."

"Well?" I said, walking in to the command tent that had already been prepared. I was late- we had decided to stop in a few more towns to try and drum up recruits.

"My lady," one man said, jumping to his feet before kneeling. Two other armored men looked just as nervous, glancing from him to me. After a brief pause they dropped as well. The only one to remain seated was the First Enchanter, who rolled his eyes at them.

I couldn't stop myself from sighing. "Up," I muttered, gesturing. "Bloody Andraste, how will we get anything done if you're already starting that garbage?"

"But you're—"

"Hungry," I said, cutting him off. "And really good at killing things. Other than that, I'm no one special. Just ask the only one here who knows me. He's also the only one still in his chair."

They nervously stood up and returned to the table. "They know we're waiting for them," one man began. He was wearing the laurels of Highever. "Ships off the northern coast." I nodded.

"And our defenses?"

"Highever ships, Amaranthine ships," he said. "Your own ships…" he shrugged. "Theirs are better. If they engage us…" The man wrung his hands, not needing to finish the sentence.

I wasn't surprised. Ferelden had never been what one could call a naval power. Really, we weren't even a military power. Or a power of any sort at all. "Well," I said, considering my words carefully, "we'll have to make sure they don't get a chance to engage us. I like my boats. My people like my boats. And the damned cannons cost a small fortune. I'm sure Fergus would say the same of his boats- his are much nicer than mine, after all. I'd rather not see them destroyed." I glanced to Torrin. "I want primal mages sent to the Ferelden ships. Fire and ice people. Mostly fire. Ones who are good at distances."

"Most of our primal mages are young," he began.

"Of course they are," I said. "Up until recently people like me were just seen as a risky waste of resources. You think I don't know what would have happened to me if I'd been anything less than the _best _primal mage?" I raised an eyebrow. "Accusations of blood magic, escape attempt, I know someone would have found a reason to get rid of a mage as dangerous as me. I didn't _then,_ of course. Anders always understood the politics more than I did, though. He pointed it out years later." He shifted, not arguing. "Are they old enough to decide for themselves?" I asked. "Old enough to be made tranquil at their own request?" He nodded.

"We wouldn't have brought anyone _that_ young," Torrin said. "There _are_ apprentices among them, though."

"There were apprentices who fought at the Battle of Denerim," I reminded him. "I know… I recruited one who ran away after." I sighed. "They'll be safer than we will be here." He nodded. "So… have them start burning. Burn the ships, freeze the water around them so it's too cold for them to swim to shore. Crush the hulls with ice if they can. Destroy their fleet, to the last man. No survivors. One templar running free can leave every mage around them powerless." They didn't look particularly concerned. I sighed. "That includes healers, you know."

One of the men, in Highever heraldry, made a face. "Really, if we win we should be taking prisoners."

I stood up so fast my chair flew back behind me, falling into the dirt. "_No prisoners!" _I shouted. "Is that understood?" They shared a glance and I narrowed my eye. "I will not have prisoners who can overpower one of dozen troops with a gesture. _They. All. Die."_ Crossing my arms I looked at each man, holding their gaze until they looked away first. "If any of you have a problem with that, leave now."

The soldiers shifted in their chairs, but made no move to leave the tent. I caught Torrin's glance. He locked eyes with me and nodded, face grim.

"Good," I said finally, righting my chair and sitting down again. "Now, bring me maps of Gherlen's Pass."

* * *

_*waves* Hi! Not dead. Really tired. I need a job that doesn't involve fifty hour weeks._


	105. I think I managed to offend myself

It was with no small amount of relief that I greeted Alistair. "Thank the Maker," I muttered, bowing since we were in full view of hundreds of people.

"You're… bowing at me," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Welcome to my world," I said. "People have been doing it to me since I got here. Hopefully with someone more important around that will stop."

"Ugh," was all he said in response.

Once we were in the command tent Alistair gave me a hug, picking me up so my feet dangled several inches above the ground. "You know, you're the only person I would ever let do that to me," I said once he'd set me down again. "Well, that I'm not married to, at least."

"Lucky me," he said, rubbing his knuckles into the top of my head.

"Indeed," I agreed, lightly punching him in the stomach.

"Are… you two done?" Torrin asked, sounding horrified.

"Done with what?" we both asked, speaking at once and then bursting into laughter.

He sat with a sigh and, after a moment, Alistair and I joined him. I went over everything that we had been doing. "Mags," Alistair begain, "One of the commanders was… _concerned_ with your, ah, no prisoners policy."

"Concerned?"

"He called it barbaric," Alistair admitted.

"Fire him," I replied.

Alistair looked shocked. "Wait…. what?"

"Fire him," I repeated. "I want him gone. If he doesn't understand why that's important when one out of ever dozen people here is a mage, he is too stupid to be in charge of anything."

Sitting down, Alistair picked up a glass, taking a drink of water. "Well, it's already done," he admitted. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for Alistair to finish. He had trailed off, looking away and putting a hand to his mouth. Sighing, he put his hands out in apology. "He questioned your, um, mental stability. I figured once that happened we probably needed someone else in charge. Before he started talking to anyone else."

"What, you don't want anyone to know you put the army in the hands of a crazy woman?" I said, chuckling. Knowing he was gone, I already felt relieved.

"Mags, you're not crazy," Alistair said, his voice reassuring.

"I know that," I said. "Why do you sound like you're trying to convince me? I'm perfectly fine."

"No reason," he said quickly. "So… should we be looking at maps or something?"

I nodded, gesturing to the young member of the Silver Order who had been acting as my steward. He brought a large rolled sheath of papers over, setting them on the table before returning to silence against the wall. Alistair glanced at him and then looked at me, raising his brows.

"Colum," I called to him, "how long has your family served at Vigil's Keep?"

"Since before the occupation, Commander," he replied. "I'm the second since the Wardens took charge."

"Maker's breath," I laughed. "Am I that old?"

"Yes," Alistair replied without pause. Reassured of the trustworthiness of my staff, he unrolled the maps. "Now, let's get to work."

For hours we poured over every square inch of the coasts and borders, searching out even the most minuscule of weaknesses. Leaning back in my chair, I gratefully accepted a glass of ale before dismissing my steward for the night.

Anders poked his head in not long after. "I just saw the kid fall asleep into a glass of rum. Any reason your staff gets rest and you don't?" He paused. "Well, some rest."

"Still working," I said, gesturing to the maps.

Anders looked from me to Alistair and smirked.

"What?" Alistair asked.

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "Well, nothing you would find funny. Maggie might."

"Oh?" I said.

"You know that painting in the library at home?" he asked. "The one we got from the Queen?"

"My wife gave you a painting?" Alistair asked.

I thought back and tried not to chuckle, looking at us. Alistair was leaning over elbow on the table and his head on his hand. I was leaning back in my chair, one arm slung backwards with an ale in my hand. The painting had been an old one, Elissa couldn't stand the idea of it being destroyed because of the significance, and she knew Alistair would order just that. In it, Maric had been leaning over the table, head on his elbow as he looked at maps. Loghain sat across from him, chair leaning against a wall with a glass of wine in his hand as he gestured, mid statement. Without realizing it, Alistair and I had nearly mirrored the exact positions some long-forgotten artist had depicted Maric and his own general sitting in years ago.

When I laughed Alistair demanded an explanation. Knowing he wouldn't relent, I tried to explain it as best I could without mentioning Loghain much. It, of course, wasn't enough.

"What, should I be warning my sons to watch out for you in a couple decades?" he asked drily.

"Not unless you think I have some plan to _haunt_ them," I said, making a face at him.

"She shouldn't have given you that painting," he muttered. "Too many paintings of him as it is. And you actually hung it up?"

"I did," I said. "It's a piece of history. They accomplished great things together. I hope we can be half as successful."

He snorted. "What he did then doesn't excuse what happened later. As much as you wanted it to when you pardoned the bastard." He looked disgusted.

Before I could stop myself, words slipped out. "That isn't why I did it."

"What do you mean?" Alistair asked quickly.

"Nothing," I replied, waving my hands like it could clear the slip of my tongue away. "Forget I said anything."

"You know damn well I can't do that," Alistair replied, leaning forward and staring at me. "For what, almost twenty years I've thought you let Loghain get away with what he did because he was your childhood hero. If there was some other reason I think I deserve to know."

"We shouldn't be talking about this," I said, knowing there was no way out of it but hoping to stall the inevitable. Alistair was like a mabari with a rabbit in this mood, though. Nothing short of lightning at his head would stop him.

"I think we should," came the reply. "You pardoned him for killing the king, killing our brothers, killing _Duncan_. I want to know why."

"None of those things were his fault," I said quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"_What?"_

"They weren't his fault," I repeated, looking at him this time. He was waiting for more of an answer. I sighed, pushing my hair back. "Alistair, I spent… a lot of time thinking about this when we were on the road. At Ostagar, back then… well, we were more than three hours late with that stupid beacon. By the time it was lit… they were already damned. Nothing Loghain could have done would have saved them. The darkspawn had already won the battle. If he joined it would have just killed the other half of the army, too." I sighed, feeling no relief now that the secret I'd held to my chest for so many years was out. "I thought so then. Now that I know so much more about war, about being in command, about fighting… I've become more sure of it."

"So you're saying this was our fault?" His voice was cold, cold and calm.

"No!" I replied quickly. "It wasn't anyone's _fault._ Not everything in life can be blamed on someone. Sometimes bad things just… happen."

"And him chasing us from one end of the country to the other, that _just happened,_ I suppose?"

"He didn't _know_ the tower was overrun!" I argued. "He didn't set foot in that tower again until he went with me_. _All Loghain knew was that we were supposed to jog up some stairs and light a fire, and what should have taken fifteen minutes took us three and a half hours. And then we _vanished_, thanks to Flemeth. For all he knew it _was_ intentional sabotage! From his point of view it certainly looked like that." He was glaring at me. "The Wardens take thieves, murderers, maleficar. The worst of the worst. Nothing Loghain did was any worse than what half my people did before I found them."

"Get out," Alistair said quietly. I stared at him, not sure how to respond. "Get out," he repeated. "Go back to your killers and maleficar that you love so much. I have nothing more to say to you."

"Alis—"

"I said _GO!"_he exclaimed, face red with anger as he jumped to his feet. "I don't even want to look at you."

Nodding, I turned and walked out. Anders was next to me seconds later. "Mags," he said quietly.

"Get me to our tent," I whispered, grabbing his sleeve. "I can't have this camp see me cry."

It was a very close call.

Anders tried to reason with me. "Maggie," he said the next morning, "you dropped a lot on him. He'll come around, it's just a shock. His whole… whole view of, well, _everything _just got changed. And not for the better!"

"I don't know," I said. "Alistair holds a grudge."

"He's not unreasonable, though," Anders argued. "Well, mostly… sometimes…" he sighed, "unless it involves Duncan and Loghain." I stared at him and he shrugged, offering a small smile. "You'll always have me?"

"Well I'd hope so," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Would it help if I promised to punch you in the kidneys every once in a while, to fill the void? I could even make up bizarre stories about the blight and pretend they're not utter fabrications."

I raised my eyebrow. "Our blight stories were never made up. Where did you get that idea?"

"Maggie, you told me you were bit by a werewolf. And Alistair said the only reason you don't bark is because you killed a Dalish keeper that was hundreds of years old. That… well, not only is it unbelievable, it doesn't really have any sort of logic to it. What does one have to do with the other?"

"Yes it does!" I said. "There was a curse!"

"Of course there was," he said, patting my head. "Sure it does, honey," came the response.

Not responding, I dug through my bag. Finding a faded set of robes, I yanked them over my head and began buckling the belts. "I am just going to ignore you right now," I said.

"I'm used to it," came the response. "I should have married a nice housewife."

"Probably," I agreed. "I don't think housewives would kill templars for you, though. Or approve of your love of doing the same."

"They might," Anders said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I'm awfully good looking, after all." He laughed at the face I made. "So, what is the plan now?"

"Plan?"

"Maker, please tell me you have a plan. Or an idea. Or maybe a hunch. _Something."_

"The _plan_ is to defeat the templars," I said. "It hasn't changed."

"We're staying?"

I nodded. I wouldn't lie, the thought of running home to curl up in my own bed and sob had occurred to me once or twice, but I couldn't do that. "Staying," I agreed. "We have a job to do."

"Good," he said. "I was worried you would want to run home for a bit there." He smiled, pushing my hair back. "It would have been really hard to talk you out of that."

"Why Anders," I said, laughing as I stood up, "watch out. Someone might get the idea that you're capable of being responsible."

"Don't make me accidentally set our tent on fire to prove that theory wrong."

Feeling slightly better, I was chuckling as we left the tent. "All right," I said loudly, gesturing to my steward. "I need the First Enchanter, and see if you can find anyone from Orzammar around. I've got an idea."

"What idea is this?" Anders asked as soon as we were alone.

"I came up with it last night," I admitted. "I was staring at the mountains and crying, and it hit me all the sudden…" He made a face. "What?"

"I just… there's this odd, twisty feeling deep in my guts. Came out of nowhere."

"Are you all right?" I asked, studying his face for some sign of illness I would never be qualified to identify.

"I think so," Anders said. "It's just odd. This must be how Nathaniel feels whenever you start talking. No wonder he went grey so young." He looked thoughtful. "I don't mind a bit more grey, since it makes me look rather distinguished. But I swear to the Maker, if my hair starts falling out I'm going home."

"Fair enough," I agreed, laughing.

"You do realize it is barely _dawn_," came a voice from behind me.

"Is _that _why it's still dark out?" I mused, putting a hand to my face in mock confusion. "What _would_ I do without you to point these things out, First Enchanter?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," he responded drily, "but I know I would get a decent night's rest."

I rolled my eyes. Did he think we were on a picnic? "Quit whining," I said. "Be glad you're a mage and can take care of yourself, until your group arrived with the healers half the men in this camp couldn't keep off the latrines for more than an hour. I've got half a dozen serious injuries from sparring accidents, and I'm getting very concerned about how long the food will hold out. Your nap is the least of my worries. And I have a brilliant plan."

He made a face. Anders looked at him and nodded. "Squirmy sort of feeling in your stomach, isn't it?" he asked. "I had the same thing when she told me, too."

I couldn't respond, the Orzammar representative approached not moments later. "Ambassador?" I asked.

He grunted an agreement. "His Highness sends his regards, and apologizes that he can't openly assist you."

"I understand," I reassured him. Really, I was surprised they had bothered sending even an ambassador when I asked, but seeing as how we were planning on waging a war right over their heads, it was probably just so there would be a visual reminder of all the people living right below our battle.

Concern for those people was exactly the reason I had called him over.

"So…" I began, gesturing to the mountains that loomed over the pass, "just how far down is the city?"

"From there?" he asked, rubbing his beard. "No one really lives there. Old Thaig, mostly collapsed."

"Fantastic!" I said, clapping my hands. "Well, not the collapse. That's bad. But the no one there thing is fantastic for me. Right now." I couldn't help giggling, seeing my plan take form in my mind.

"Torrin," I said, pointing at the First Enchanter, "we're going to start some earthquakes."

He looked surprised and then, a moment later, nodded with a smile. "General, I think I see where you're going with this."

"Excellent," I said, and began laying out the maps.

Alistair wandered over while we were planning. I tried not to look over, afraid he was still angry and unsure if I could hold my composure. "I want mages here and here," I told Torrin, pointing to spots on the map. "Maybe three in each group? Make sure they bundle up, it's cold up there. I'll get them a nice escort. Maybe some of the Gwaren and Highever troops." He nodded and went to the mages' encampment to find people.

"General, what are you planning?" Alistair was doing his best to sound serious.

"We're going to start an avalanche in the pass, your majesty," I explained, still not looking up.

He was quiet for a moment. "That's… not a bad idea," Alistair finally admitted. I nodded, pleased he agreed but still not feeling bold enough to look over. It felt like those first months after the Blight ended, when he wouldn't speak to me because of Loghain, all over again.

"Let's go for a walk," he finally said after a long, uncomfortable silence. "We should talk. In private." It seemed Alistair was used to being obeyed without question, since he set off before I could reply.

I looked over at Anders. He shooed me away with a shrug.

"Well, then," I mumbled. "I guess I'm off to get yelled at. Back soon. Unless he kills me. In which case, remember I've always loved you."

Anders rolled his eyes. "Go."

I would never get used to having people salute as I walked by. That was always the first habit I broke in the new Warden recruits. But this was the army, and the army couldn't be run on a first name basis. Or so they kept telling me.

I finally managed to catch up to Alistair. He slipped behind the last row of tents, which were nestled right into the foot of the mountain, and began to climb.

"All right," I grumbled, almost fifteen minutes later, breaking the silence. "If you're going to push me off a mountain, just do it from here. It'll be rocky enough for my head to split, and I don't want to climb another foot."

He ignored me, focusing on brushing the snow off a large rock before turning to sit down. "I'm not going to push you off a mountain, Maggie," Alistair finally said. He handed me a wrapped package and a small bottle. The package, it turned out, was breakfast. The bottle was lyrium. As soon as the smell of fried eggs hit me I couldn't stop myself from taking a bite. "I'm going to poison you, you pig," he said after a moment.

I spit the food out, wiping my tongue with my hands. "Ack! What?"

"Maker's breath," he said. "I was kidding. Trying to lighten the mood. You really think I would _kill_ you?" Alistair looked offended. "Drink your lyrium, you're clearly hitting the 'strange and paranoid' stage of the morning." I did as he said, blasting a rock with fire a moment later to melt the snow and warm it before sitting. "You couldn't do that for me?" he said. "I think my backside may be frozen."

"Sorry," I replied.

"Ah, so you can still talk."

"Of course I can," I said. "I'm waiting for you. _You're_ the one who's furious with _me."_

"Fair enough," Alistair said, rubbing his face. His cheeks were still dotted with stubble. "I… I didn't sleep much last night. Well, at all, really," he admitted. "I hate arguing with you. It's like the end of the Blight all over again."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said.

He nodded. "I can concede," Alistair began slowly, "that we were late with the beacon… through no fault of our own." I nodded. "And while I don't agree that the battle was _unwinnable_ at that point, I will admit that it would have been a near thing. And believing it to be lost isn't... entirely unreasonable."

"All right," I said slowly.

"But," Alistair said, "I can't agree that recruiting Loghain was the right thing at the time. I can't. I mean, in hindsight sure, since he died and we didn't, and that was always my goal anyways. But at the time neither of us knew that."

"True," I said. Continuing carefully, I wrung my hands as I spoke. "But why wouldn't he have the same chance anyone else does, the chance I had?"

"You didn't _kill_ Grey Wardens!" Alistair exclaimed. "You weren't even a mal—" cutting himself off, Alistair dropped his voice. "You weren't even a maleficar when you were conscripted," he finished in a near-whisper. "He killed Grey Wardens, intentional or not. There has to be a limit, you can't give _everyone _a second chance. Some things are unforgivable." He shook his head. "I know you won't take rapists. You've told me so yourself. How is what he did somehow less horrible?"

"It isn't the same thing at all!" I said, surprised he would even make the comparison. "A rapist… they're… they're broken in the head. They're always a danger. I take them and it puts every woman around them at risk. Loghain wasn't stalking and attacking Wardens in the street. It was a battle! And he didn't even raise a blade to a single one. Even if you disagree with me about the position he was in after the beacon was lit, you have to admit they died because of his _inaction, _he didn't directly kill anyone."

"He was still responsible for the deaths of Wardens," Alistair said. "That alone should make him… unwelcome in the ranks."

Sighing, I shook my head. "He's not the first to join after killing a member. I doubt he'll be the last."

Alistair raised a brow. "And you aren't telling me the big part of that statement. So spit it out before I make it an order."

"I don't have to follow your orders," I pointed out.

"Oh yes you do," he said. "You're on leave from the Wardens. You're my general. That means you follow my orders. So out with it."

"Duncan," I finally said with a sigh. "It was Duncan. He was conscripted… before he could be hung for killing a Warden. It… it was a robbery gone wrong." I sighed. If I could have managed, I would have kept that from Alistair for the rest of our lives.

"You're lying."

"I'm not," I said.

"If it was true, I'd know."

I shrugged. "It isn't the sort of thing we discuss, you know that. He only told me because… well, because of how I joined. I was worried people would look down on me since I was conscripted to save me from punishment."

He leaned back, looking relaxed. "Mags, he made it up!" I blinked in confusion. "It was to make you feel better," Alistair went on. "I bet that was just the only thing he could think of off the cuff that was worse than 'letting a maleficar free to roam the countryside.' Duncan just didn't want you to feel like a monster."

"No, Alistair," I said, shaking my head.

"You won't convince me Duncan was some kind of monster to make _Loghain_ seem less horrible," Alistair said.

"He wasn't a monster, he was just a boy. A boy who made a horrible mistake," I said. "They gave him a second chance. He redeemed himself. More than redeemed himself. He gave his life fighting the Darkspawn." Alistair stared at me, sitting up once more. "I'm Warden Commander," I reminded him. "I have all the old records about the Ferelden Wardens. The paperwork on their recruitment… or conscriptions. Including Duncan." I looked down at my hands, sighing. "Loghain was no better or worse than any of us. He did his duty, and he gave his life in the process. At the Landsmeet I was only doing what Duncan would have wanted me to do."

"Maker…" Alistair said after a long silence. "You're not lying, are you?"

"You know me well enough that you would spot it if I was," I said.

"And all these years, you've been carrying that around, trying to keep it from me?" I nodded. "Why?"

"I didn't want to hurt you," I said quietly. "I've done enough of that in our lives."

He looked annoyed and stood up. "I'm the bloody king, Maggie! I was a Grey Warden. I was a Templar recruit. I'm not made of _porcelain_! You don't have to _lie_ to me just to keep me from falling apart."

"I didn't lie to you," I said. "I just… didn't tell you. Different."

"Ah, like how Loghain didn't kill the Wardens, he just didn't save them, either?"

I gasped and Alistair shrugged, looking sheepish. "Yeah. Probably too soon for that joke. Sorry. I think I managed to offend myself with that one." He sat back down. "I still hate him," he said. "That'll never change."

"I wouldn't expect it to," I said. Tugging on my hair, I looked over at him. "So… do you hate me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Really? Do you automatically assume every argument means the other person now hates you? Wouldn't the rational thought be to assume they're, oh, I don't know, really really angry at you?"

"Maybe?" I admitted.

"Right," he said. "And right now? I'm not exactly feeling all too cheerful in your direction. But I don't _hate_ you. Maker's breath, don't be absurd."

"All right," I said.

He stood up. "Come here," Alistair demanded, holding his arms out.

Relieved, I climbed to my feet and returned the hug. It was only seconds later that his arm shifted, grabbing me around the neck, grinding knuckles into my head with his other hand. "You deserve this!" Alistair laughed as I tried to pull away.

I stopped struggling away and, after a moment of going limp, tossed all my weight directly at him, knocking both of us into the snow. "Ha!" I laughed, sitting on his chest and pushing his head into the snow with both hands.

"Damn you, Maggie!" Alistair batted at me with both hands. "This is cold!"

"Truce!" I demanded.

He coughed, trying to pull free. It was a few seconds before he noticed half the snow burying him was pouring from my hands. "Fine!" he sputtered. "Truce!"

Nodding, I stood up and offered him a hand.

"Magic," Alistair said, brushing himself off as we returned to camp, "is cheating."

"Says the man that's got a foot and, what, a hundred pounds on me?"

"The Maker made you short, not me."

"Yeah, well, he made me a mage, too. So there."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, making a chattering gesture with one hand. Anders looked up at the sound of our arrival. Seeing us both covered in snow he raised an eyebrow, but looked relieved that we were speaking again.

"Torrin's been looking for you," he said.

"Well, here I am." I sent someone to find the First Enchanter.

"We're ready," he said, approaching with a substantial group of mages.

"For?"

"The earthquakes!" he said. "We're ready to block off the pass."

I paused, trying to figure out the disconnect. "No, no," I said. "We're not blocking the pass before they get here." He looked confused.

"Maggie?" Alistair said. "What are you talking about?"

"The earthquakes are for once they've made their move. I don't want to block them out. I want to bury them alive."

The sound of a dozen people gasping in horror at once is really quite unique. Only Anders met my eyes and nodded, a grim smile on his face.

* * *

A/N: _So I realized there was a serious flaw with my computer set up with regards to being able to write. See, I'm abnormal. I can't just write. I need distractions. I need noise, movies, video games, something. I have the attention span of a fruit fly. I used to use my laptop to write and do other stuff on my desktop, but my new desk didn't fit both. _  
_Low and behold, I add a second monitor and I can write again. Wish I'd figured that out months ago.  
_  
_Thanks so much to all my reviewers! And to those who asked, yes there is an end in sight, and actually, it's very very soon._


	106. Now I see your fiendish plan

"You want to do _what_?" Alistair stared at me.

"Bury them alive," I repeated.

"Maggie, that's… that's _inhumane_."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "So setting them on fire, cutting them in half, lightning, rocks, arrows… that's all fine. But _snow_ is crossing a line?" I moved to the maps, looking at them. "This way we spare as many lives as we can."

"By killing thousands?"

"Thousands of invaders," I pointed out. He didn't look convinced. "Leave us," I said, gesturing to the mages and others listening in. They all did, after a moment, annoyed grumbles trailing in their wake. "Alistair," I finally said, when it was no one but us, "do what I say or send me home. I can't deal with this. You want me to be your general, well damn it, let me work! Don't second guess everything I say, and for Maker's sake, don't act like _you_ think I'm some kind of maniac. At least, not in front of all them." I folded my arms, too annoyed to try and look respectful for anyone watching us from a distance. "You brought someone who only knows how to fight monsters in to be your general. Don't look at me like I'm some kind of _lunatic_ because I'm treating them like monsters. That's _all I know! _It is the only way I _can_ fight. If you don't want that, you don't want me."

He sighed. "I just didn't think it would be like this."

"What, your old age? Yeah, me neither."

"You're older than I am," he said without a pause. "And no, just… _this_. It doesn't feel like there's any honor in it."

"It's war," I pointed out. "What honor is there in two groups of people trying to kill each other?"

"There used to be," he said.

I considered that. "Nah, I think they edit out the nasty parts for the books. I mean, have you seen the shit that got published about _us_? Utter nonsense."

He looked resigned. "Fine. Do what you want. I'll back you. You know I will." Leaning over the table, he put his head in his hands. "I can't do this alone. All I can think of is my family. I'm so worried I can't see straight. If letting you go on a killing spree will keep you here, fine."

Well, now I felt guilty. Hopping up to sit on the table so we were closer to eye level, I put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," I said. "Come on. You know me, if I want to go on a killing spree I go to the Deep Roads. I'm trying to _prevent_ deaths here." He gave me a look of disbelief. "I am," I insisted. "_Ours._ Your kids', the troops here, the mages… those are the people I want alive. The templars? Screw them. Let them all die. Every one we kill out there is one less to wave a sword at us here."

"It feels wrong is all," he said. "It should be a fair fight, honest combat."

"There's nothing honest about combat," I said. "It's fighting. One person lives, the other dies. It just _is._ Why does there have to be some kind of deep honor or whatever in it? I just want to go home on my feet at the end of the day, instead of in a nice box." He didn't look reassured. "Look," I said, "you keep records. Write down that I did this over your objections. I gave the orders. Not you. Your hands are clean. History can judge me."

"And your hands?" he asked.

I only held up my scarred palm, shrugging. "Too late for me anyways."

Alistair sighed, sitting next to me. "You can't believe that."

"Maybe I'll be able to get some kind of 'extenuating circumstances' reprieve?" Shaking my head, I sighed. "That's really all I can hope for, but there's nothing to be done about it at this point."

He was quiet for a long time. "Didn't you tell me you'd rather go to the Void if the maker was such a… what was it… such a _capricious ass_ that he would be more upset about blood magic than pleased about ending the blight?"

I chuckled. "Interesting how different the world looks when you're twenty two, isn't it?"

That night I fell into a fitful sleep. It wasn't just me, either. Anders was tossing and turning at my side. Every few moments one of us would kick or elbow the other.

"I just don't get it," Anders said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I'm _exhausted_. Why can't I sleep?"

"No idea," I mused. "But I can't, either."

The next day Alistair looked no better than either of us. "I think the stress is getting to me," he mused over breakfast. "You know, unlike my relaxing life of running the nation, thank you very much once again for _that_, Mags."

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, stirring my porridge listlessly. "Ugh. Road food. Can I tell you how much I hate road food? You know, I figured making you king would get us a better quality of food."

"Now I see your fiendish plan," he said, smirking.

"So you do." I yawned and Anders cast a rejuvenation spell on myself, followed by another on Alistair and finally himself.

"You know," he said, blowing on his cup of tea, "the thing I can't stop coming back to? This is only _us_." Alistair and I looked at him blankly. He sighed. "OK, sleepy and sleepier, what do the three of us have in common? Something no one else in this camp has ever done. Or _drank_, should I say?"

"Ohhhh," Alistair said. At the same time my eyes went wide.

"Well this can't be good," I mumbled. "Maker, being here, I don't have the least idea what's going on in the order. In Orlais."

"None of us do, really… the last of our people were turned away at the border, remember?" He sighed. "We would be just as much in the dark at home. Well, not really since we have much better candles there. But you follow."

"I remember," I said.

"It is _nice_ to see idiocy knows no border. 'Hey, we've got darkspawn crawling out our asses! Well, we best not let those _foreign_ Grey Wardens in here! No need for that!'" Anders looked disgusted. "Whatever it is, it can't be good."

"No," I agreed, "it can't." Sighing, I stood up. There was nothing we could do. I wasn't even a Warden at the moment, no more than Alistair. Just a carrier of poisoned blood. Even if I left and went home immediately there was little I could do from the Keep with the borders closed. I could only trust in Alain and the other commanders. In the meantime there was so much work to do.

The next several days passed quickly. I met with soldiers, ash warriors, mages, and spies. Nearly everyone who was of consequence among the fighting men and women in Ferelden had a small group within the camp. Everyone but the Wardens, of course.

Not that their absence went unnoted. I could hear whispers from people every few days, wondering when 'my' army would arrive. Several seemed to be counting on their presence.

It was both flattering and frustrating. To think they were so respected people assumed our comparatively small force could win the day was, of course, thrilling. But… knowing how disappointed everyone would be made me have trouble walking through camp. I knew the Wardens _would_ come if I called for them. Just as much as I knew I could never call for them.

"How did you sleep?" Alistair asked. We were waiting on one of his top spies, an old friend.

"I didn't," I replied. "You?"

"Same."

I sighed, brightening only when a redhead slipped into the command tent. "Hello!" she said quietly.

"Leliana!" I jumped up, embracing her.

She kissed my cheek before slipping into chair. "I'm afraid I have bad news." She sighed. "It is nothing we haven't anticipated, of course, but… I have seen it. Confirmation is never good."

"Just tell me," I said, almost certain of what would come next.

"It is Orlais," she said softly. "The Empress… she is backing the Chantry."

Alistair cursed, arm sweeping half the contents of the table to the ground. "How many?" he finally asked.

"Two full battalions, at least," she said.

"Not good," I said. "That is… Maker, that is not good."

"How not good," Alistair asked.

"That's more than we have here," I said. "And they have templars, too."

"Can we get more men?" Alistair asked.

I shrugged. It had occurred to me, too. But Ferelden wasn't exactly a wealthy nation. "Do you have arms and armor for them?" I asked. "Food? Since I don't."

After a long pause Alistair sighed, muttering "no, not good at all."

I don't think many knew the financial state of the nation. We were _still_, even decades later, recovering from the blight. Our population had dropped dramatically. Not just the death toll, which was substantial enough that we would be recovering for another two or three generations, but from the massive numbers of people who simply left and never returned.

From what I knew, Kirkwall and Starkhaven's populations had exploded just as ours dropped. I couldn't claim I was surprised. Alistair had tried to find some way for those people to return home, but by the time it was even financially feasible for him to send boats, most had built new lives. After five, ten years… why would someone want to leave and start all over once again? I couldn't blame them.

There was nothing we could do but push on. Leliana's network of spies, mostly women hiding among the camp followers, sent us regular reports on the army's progress.

It was just as well that I had contracted a seemingly permanent case of insomnia. This would have kept me up nights.

Anders wasn't sleeping any better. Nor was Alistair.

I was starting to build up a strong idea of what the problem was. A letter from Nathaniel seemed to confirm my suspicions.

_Maggie, _it had read. _Alain in Orlais managed to contact me. Two words, written on the inside of a doublet he had smuggled in: we're losing. Nothing we can do, but I thought you needed to know._

I passed it to Alistair over breakfast. He nodded silently and handed it back to me so I could destroy it before anyone read what it said. No one wants to see those words on Grey Warden stationary, not ever.

After a long silence, Alistair looked up with tears in his eyes. "It doesn't seem right," he said quietly. "After all we did, after how many died… for it to start all over again so quickly…"

I could only nod, wiping my eyes with a shaking hand. "I don't know what I should be doing," I said finally. "I feel like I should be there… but I couldn't get in the country if I tried."

Alistair had no more idea than me.

The next morning I woke to find Alistair outside our tent. "Maggie," he said quietly, "From now on, do what you want. Don't hold back. Win this, win it fast. I don't care how brutal you are, I don't care what anyone says about justice or fairness. End this war, open the borders, and get the Wardens marching. Understand?" I nodded, too surprised to reply. Alistair grabbed my wrist, eyes boring into me. "I can _hear it," _he hissed. "Don't lie to me, I know you can, too. You want to know why we can't sleep? _Listen._"

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, doing what he said. Like an itch I could never reach, a scratch at the back of my mind, there it was. The song.

"It's not…"

"Not yet," he agreed. "You weren't with us then, though. This… this is how it felt before. I think it's calling, telling them they're close. This was how we all felt for weeks until… well." He shook his head. "This, that letter… things are bad. They'll get worse."

"There's still a chance," I said, feeling hope fade even as I spoke the words.

"There's always a chance," Alistair agreed flatly.

We were, of course, lying horribly.

* * *

_Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers!_


	107. a love of canines and horrible cooking

I was too jittery to focus on much of anything for the next week. Every day the army moved closer, and every day I woke up to screaming in my head.

"Is it…?" Anders rolled over in our bedroll, looking at me.

"Not yet," I whispered.

"You're sure?"

I nodded. "You'll know. Trust me."

He sighed. "There's no way around it," Anders said after a moment. "There are millions of them. Hundreds of us. We can only hold them off for so long. I just wish…"

"Yeah," I agreed.

I felt like I was moving through a dream- a bad one. Everything was going so slowly. I was being kept from the only real purpose I had in life. Deep down, I wondered if I would have stayed had the king been anyone but Alistair.

"I talked to Leliana," he said over dinner one evening.

"Oh?" Lately she hadn't been bringing us very good news.

"Good, this time," he said. I raised an eyebrow. "It seems the empress isn't as short sited as it would have seemed."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"She's pulled her support. Her men have doubled back to join the Wardens in the west."

I couldn't help but whoop with joy after hearing that. "Perfect!" I screamed. "Fantastic!" Hopping from my chair, I jumped around in a short dance, arms in the air. "We are. So good."

"We are?" Alistair looked amused.

"Against just the Templars? Oh yeah," I nodded, beaming. "We're good. More than good."

"Really?" he smiled. "I thought it was a fairer fight, but you're acting like we've already won."

I smirked. "We have. They don't know it yet, though."

That night I met with my cousin. Catherine snuck into camp, wearing all black, with a dark rag covering her hair. "Well?" I whispered.

She nodded. "In position. Leliana gives us two days. We're ready for them now. Provisions for another week, week and a half."

"Good," I said, grinning as I gave her a hug. We were probably being overly cautious, but I had no idea if there were spies in the camp, and this was my secret weapon.

"One more thing," she whispered. I gestured for her to go on. "There are some of your people with them. Wardens."

"What?"

She nodded. "When they found out who was leading the army…"she waved a hand, "well, you would likely be the only one to convince them to leave."

Sighing, I nodded. "Fine, all right," I said. "Maker knows we can use them. Just… ugh." I made a noise of frustration. "I left just so I wouldn't compromise the order's political neutrality. If I'd known it was for nothing, well, I would have brought everyone with me here!"

"Too late for that," she whispered. "No way will they make it from the east coast in a few days."

I nodded, elation mixed with annoyance. We chatted briefly, on less consequential matters, before she took off, sneaking back over the border through a long forgotten tunnel.

Apparently there were things even the royal spies didn't know, I mused, fingering a letter tucked away in my pocket. Three words, in a familiar hand: _on our way._

I was surprised to see a commotion at the edge of camp the next day. Jogging over, I saw a familiar blonde figure leading a massive group of men and women. "Zev?" I called out.

"You were expecting the archdemon?" he laughed. Seeing my face, his humor died quickly. Switching to a businesslike air, he began gesturing. "Who can get these fine people armed and armored, perhaps a nice hot meal?"

I raised my hand, gesturing over one of the captains, who quickly took charge of the massive group of recruits.

"There were hundreds of them," I whispered. "Where did they come from?"

He smiled. "I will explain. Where is our king? He must hear this first." Following me to the command tent, Zevran dropped his voice to a whisper. "So the rumors, they are true," he asked. "We will have another blight?"

"So it seems," I admitted. "It hasn't started yet, but it will… soon. I can tell."

"Of course you can," he said. "As can I." I raised my eyebrow. "You have your horrible mug of blood and poison. I have information. There is one reason, and one alone, that causes Wardens across Thedas to march en masse."

I nodded. "We need to end this soon, the border has to be opened."

"Good thing I found so many recruits," he smiled.

We found Alistair reading over a book of the rebellion. Glancing at the page, I recognized it as the story of a battle fought in this very pass. "Zev?" he asked, standing up. "What's wrong? My sons?"

I suddenly realized why Leliana had been brought west with us, and Zev left in the capital. He was always the more ruthless of the two. Alistair must have left him to guard the princes. Where she might hesitate, he would cut a bloody fury into anything that opposed him.

"Your sons grow like weeds," he said, smiling. "I have letters for you. I can tell you, or you can read from your wife."

Alistair grabbed the papers. I watched the play of emotions across his face. Worry into anger, anger into rage so strong he picked up a glass and launched it at the wall of the tent. Finally, he turned the page and gasped, sitting down as a grin built on his face.

"That's got to be some letter," I whispered.

"It has been an interesting few weeks in Denerim," Zevran said cryptically.

Alistair ignored me, getting up and walking across the table to Zevran. Embracing him, I was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "I can never, _never_ repay you," he said, choking up with emotion. "Never."

Zevran smiled. "I am sure you could if you tried."

At that Alistair started laughing. "All right, Arl of Denerim. How's that for a start?"

Never have I seen Zevran look so surprised. "Alistair I… it was a joke. You don't need—"

"I know I don't need to, but I want to," he said. "No one could ever doubt you are one of the most loyal men in Ferelden. Besides, I've had to fill that post for what, fifteen years?"

"You will _destroy_ my reputation," Zevran said, sitting down. He still looked somewhat shocked. I cleared my throat, hoping _one_ of them would tell me what was going on. "Now should you tell Maggie, or should I? I think she may be getting ready to set something on fire in her anticipation."

"You were there," was all Alistair said. He looked lost in thought.

"Very well," Zevran said. "There was a fire in the palace, in the royal family's personal apartments. As best we can tell, it began in the kitchen below. However," he went on, "it seemed too convenient." Zevran would say that about almost anything. He was, quite easily, the most paranoid man I had ever met. In this case, though, it would seem he was well justified. "I sent someone else to investigate the fire, rather than look into it myself. Instead, I followed Elissa and the princes. It is a fortunate thing, as the man who was sent to the kitchens was attacked by someone hiding in the smoke, and several others were waiting in the back stairwell for the royal family to pass."

I gasped, hand flying to my mouth. Until that point I had been hoping it was one of those horrible, random accidents. "Were they… is everyone…?"

He looked pleased. "Maggie, it is _me_. The attackers died. Two of them probably far more slowly than they would have liked. And not a single noble hair was harmed on the head of the boys or the queen." He sighed. "I wish I could say the same of the cook, and my own man. She… well, I saw the body. It was very clear she did not die from the fire."

"Were the attackers Orlesian?" I asked.

"Two," he replied. "The other Antivan, I believe. But, all Templars." I raised my eyebrows. "I find it is often useful to have a mage available during interrogations. If the questions become too spirited… well, a healer can ensure the party does not end before I am ready." For once, Alistair didn't shift in discomfort. "One of them neutralized the mage from within his cell and died moments later. A… what is it? A smite? That templar trick you hate so much."

"That's the one," I said.

"Yes, well, that along with the Chantry amulets on the others left no mystery." He looked pleased. "You can be assured that any nobles who were uncomfortable with this war have now seen the justice of our cause."

"Eamon?" I asked.

"Oh, the poor man was _inconsolable,_" Zevran said dramatically, hand on his heart. Eyes twinkling with mischief, he went on. "He told simply everyone who would listen. I think the Landsmeet may reconfirm Bryce as heir simply to ease his suffering. And Teagan… why, he was so upset he drank himself into a stupor at the Gnawed Noble, mumbling about the incident to everyone." Zevran paused for a moment, smirking, "Of course, because the one way to get a Fereldan to do something is to try and force them in another direction. You can only imagine how people reacted as the gossip spread."

"Hey now," Alistair said, shaking a finger playfully.

"What? I love my people. They are perhaps even more stubborn than myself!" Zevran took a sip of wine. "When the news became public we had a rush of volunteers. I thought it only fitting to lead them here myself, since I was already on my way to report to our esteemed monarch." He leaned back, smiling. "You know, as soon as they saw my dog they stopped asking about my accent. This really is a nation bound by a mutual love of canines and horrible cooking."

"Who is guarding them now?" I asked.

"The queen went to stay with her brother," Zevran replied. "The royal quarters need repairs, and she is perhaps even more safe there than in the palace. It is a smaller castle, the staffing is more consistent. No new faces, no way for an intruder to try and slip past or blend in." Zevran left Fergus' near-crazed attitude towards household security unsaid. "And now I am free to join in the fun."

"Fun?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.

Zevran only waved his hand in reply. "Ah, you know how I love watching our Maggie on one of her killing sprees. It is like art. Loud, messy art." He looked more serious. "Besides, she needs someone who understands how she fights close by. I stay near her, make sure no templars come close. Should they, well, we don't have our general left helpless in the middle of a battle."

"I can do that," Alistair said. "I've fought beside Maggie more times than I can count."

We both turned to look at him. "What?"

Normally I would giggle at speaking the same thing at the same time as another person. I wasn't feeling too much like laughing at the moment, though.

"What what?" Alistair said. "You think I'm going to sit here while other people fight and die for my sons? For _me?"_

"I think you're going to keep yourself from getting killed and throwing the nation into another succession crisis," I said. I paused. "Actually, no, I _know_ you are going to do that. Since there is no way I'm letting you within spitting distance of the front lines."

"I can spit pretty far," Alistair said.

"I can spit further," I countered. "And you're staying right here."

Alistair looked angry. "Maggie, I'm not my brother. I'm not a _fool._"

"I know," I said. "But you're still staying here." There was something else. Something I didn't want to say. Of course, Alistair could tell. He stared at me, gesturing for me to speak. "When was the last time you held a sword?" I asked finally. "Not held- Not in the yard. Not with a trainer, or your sons. When was the last time you actually cut a man down?"

"Maggie, I'm not some old man! Don't act like I'm feebl—"

My fist slamming into the table cut him off. "_When_, Alistair?" I was glaring at him, he was staring at the ruin of my left hand.

He sighed. "Your wedding," came the eventual response. "When Amaranthine was attacked."

"Alistair, I've been married for more than ten years." He protested and I shook my head. "I'm forty years old," I said. "I'm not young anymore. I can tell. I'm tired. I'm slower. I ache at the end of the day. Injuries I would have walked off in the Blight leave me limping over to Anders for help. And I'm still in practice. I fight darkspawn _nonstop_. If I feel like that… well, how will you feel after an hour? Two? More?" He didn't respond and I felt guilty. His hand went to a temple, as if he wanted to remind himself of the grey that had been starting to appear. "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

He sighed. "No, I… I forget how long it's been," Alistair said finally. "I always think of myself as a warrior. I don't know why. Those days are long gone." I started to apologize again, Alistair only shushed me. "Stop. It's fine. You're right. I'm a king, not a soldier. It's time…. Maker, it's long past time I grew up."


	108. It gets me off the hook

"You got a letter," Alistair said. "It came with my stuff." He looked embarrassed.

"What?" I asked. "Anders isn't sending me dirty letters, is he?" It wouldn't be the first time.

The king shook his head. "Why would he do that when he's here with you… you know what, don't answer, I don't want to know. I was only going to apologize for opening it by accident." He passed it over to me. "I was going through the stack and didn't notice it was for you. Until I couldn't read a word of it."

I glanced down, quickly skimming the page. Warden code. "I love the First Warden," I announced once done.

Alistair looked confused. "The same First Warden that said we should off you quietly if you were nuts?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "He's gone. As of now, apparently. New guy just started. Hanns… so I'm guessing he's from the Anderfels."

"So what does Hanns the New First Warden say?" Alistair asked. "Or can't I ask?"

I grinned, tossing the paper aside. "I wrote before I left," I explained, telling Alistair about how I temporarily stepped down. "See this," I pointed, "it's Warden code. A real pain in the ass, but useful." He was getting impatient. "That word there, it's Commander. So he is still calling me Commander."

"That word is two dozen letters long, how could it mean Commander if it's just a code? It isn't a unique language!"

"Ancient Arcanum," I explained. "Just another level of security. That isn't important, though." I grinned. "What is important is that I have been _ordered_ to clear the way by any means necessary. He actually said, I quote, "I give you a free hand. If they stand in our way, give them the bloodbath they deserve."

"Really?" Alistair said. "He actually used the word _bloodbath_?"

"Yep," I replied, laughing.

"Wow. And they barely _tried_ to get in during our Blight…"

"Ferelden was blocking them out. In this case, The Chantry is keeping us from aiding Orlais. The _Empress_ asked him for aid."

Alistair's eyes widened. "Well, I had been wondering… when she pulled her men back it seemed like this could happen."

Anders came in at that moment, sitting next to me. "Good to know someone in that nation has half a head on their shoulders," he replied, before glancing at the letter. I gestured for him to go ahead. "Oh hey, it starts with 'My most cherished sister, Commander Margaret,'" he observed. "Good sign." A moment later Anders was laughing. "I cannot _believe_ he said bloodbath. No wonder the new First seems to like you so much, he apparently shares your love of violence."

I rolled my eyes. "I tried to be a pacifist Grey Warden, but when I handed a genlock some daises he just bit my arm." I practically bounced in my seat, clapping my hands once in excitement. "Besides," I said, "we have more in common than that." Anders raised an eyebrow. "Last paragraph."

Anders shook his head, he actually looked somewhat disappointed. "What?" I asked.

"I don't know," he mused. "With all that's going on, making a mage the First… people will think we really _are_ out to control everything." He sat down. "At the very least, it sends a pretty loud statement about what side they're on."

"We're not supposed to take sides," I said, frowning. I had just thought it to be a fun coincidence, excited to have some common ground with my superior when the last was so… well, creepy and distant. Anders made a good point, though.

He sighed. "Mags, I think that's just one of those things people say."

"Agreed," Alistair said. "We were hip deep in politics in the Blight, and no one said a thing about it."

"There have always been rumors the Wardens of Antiva had been involved in the Queen of Antiva's murder before the Steel Age began," Anders added. "When she wanted to scale back some of the privileges they were given after the Fourth Blight."

"I know that!" I said.

"Believe me, you're the _last_ person I'd try and teach Warden history. Just pointing out, we've always poked around in politics. We _run_ the Anderfels. Some say we even run Ferelden!"

"Hey now," Alistair said.

"Yes, brother?" Anders replied, jabbing Alistair's bicep with one finger. The bicep where, under several layers of his fancy king's clothing, you would see a griffon tattooed, the match to my own.

"Point," Alistair conceded.

"Well," I mused, "I guess I don't have to feel _quite_ so guilty. That's good. I have wars to worry about." I paused, chuckling. "_Wars._ Maker. I never thought I would have to pluralize that word."

"This is like your birthday and First Day all rolled into one," Anders said. "You get _two_ wars to fight in. Just like the blight and civil war all over again."

"Still," Alistair said after laughing at that, "it does seem odd the First would be so willing to go against the Chantry."

"The Chantry has already gone against us," I said pointedly. "We didn't strike first."

Alistair looked thoughtful. "I always wondered how they saw that… was it an attack on mages, or wardens?"

"Wardens," Anders and I replied at once. Alistair raised an eyebrow so I went on. "In the eyes of the law, in every nation in the world, I am a Warden. Not a mage, not even a human. Just a Warden." I shrugged. "We weren't in a position to properly put them down then. Now we are."

"By joining a war already in progress?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"Are you calling my brothers opportunistic?" I asked.

"Yes," came the reply. "But… the extra swords may be of use, so you won't hear me _complain_ about that."

I spent a fairly relaxing day training. Everyone was on edge, knowing the battle was near, but for some reason the closer it came the better I felt.

Shortly before dinner I ran into Anders having a chat with another mage. He was clearly trying to talk her into something. "What's wrong?" I asked as I approached.

"Would you say our Wardens are, on the whole, prudes?" he asked. I just started laughing in response. "Right. But, despite that, I've cured more cases of Orlesian Pox and pirate's itch in the last month than I have in nearly twenty years as a Warden."

"Ew," was all I could think to say in response. "Don't tell me who, I don't want to accidentally picture it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Very mature. Maggie, with what, two exceptions… every single person you've been with could heal _themselves_ if they ever got something. Not everyone has that luxury." After a moment he snickered. "Sorry, sorry, I'm trying to be the professional healer here. The whole thing is kind of funny, though."

"How is knowing half the men in this camp are covered in sores and rashes _funny_," I asked.

"I certainly don't find it funny," the women he had been talking with when I arrived said. "I'm going to think twice the next time one of them asks me if I want to go for a walk in the moonlight." She paused, looking at me. "Is that normal? Walking in the moonlight? I don't see the appeal, but I've had four men try the line on me!"

"Really?" I asked. "Why would they want to go stumbling around in the dark?" I thought about it for a moment longer. "The last time we took a walk in the moonlight we just got attacked by a bunch of bandits."

"Maker only knows," she said. "I cast a spell wisp once and he said I was '_killing the mood.'_ Mood? I thought I'd trip and break my neck!"

I laughed at that, not sure what mood would be conjured up by stumbling through the night. Maybe the getting-attacked-by-bandits mood?

"Well then, half the men are rotting from the waist down," I said after a moment. "Yeah… I can see that being a problem."

"See, the problem," Anders began.

"Is that they are idiots," she finished. I raised an eyebrow. "They catch it from the camp followers. Get healed… and go right back to fooling around with the camp followers!"

"So… why don't we heal the camp followers?" I asked.

"Thank you!" Anders said. "That's what I've been saying!"

"Really?" she asked. "We can… work on people who aren't with the army? I just thought it wasn't allowed. I mean, I'm here with the army."

"Do you really think I'd try and convince you to do something forbidden?" Anders asked, surprised.

"You do know they still tell stories about you in the tower, right?" she said by way of response.

He chuckled. "Fair enough. But this time I was serious."

I shrugged. "You can do whatever you want, you're a free woman. But you'll spend a lot less time working on the army if you cut off the source." She looked relieved and excused herself, walking towards the edge of camp.

"One problem solved," Anders said. "Well, a small problem. But it would be difficult if half our men stopped mid-battle to scratch themselves."

"It would," I agreed. "So why didn't you just take care of it?" Anders stopped looking at me like I was insane. "What?" I asked.

"Maggie," he said, "let's think about that. I'm one of the tallest people here, one of the only Wardens, I wear mage robes everywhere, there's a statue of me in Amaranthine, and I'm married to the most famous woman in Ferelden. I _stand out."_

"And?"

"And what would my darling wife have done if someone were to tell her, oh, I don't know… that they saw her very recognizable husband hanging around with a bunch of prostitutes at the edge of camp?"

"Ohhh," I said, immediately getting his point. "It would probably have involved fire. Or ice. Probably both." I thought about it for a moment longer. "And daggers. Maybe swords."

"And that's why I found someone else to do it," Anders said.

"I would probably have also salted the earth. Just on principle."

"Of course you would," he said. "_Anyways_, I also figured a woman would be a better choice. Seemed there was no polite way for some man to wander over there and say 'pardon me, ladies, but can all of you who experience a painful burning sensation when relieving yourselves please step over here and lift your skirts?'"

"There's a polite way for a woman to ask that?" I replied.

"Probably not," Anders admitted, "but it gets me off the hook." Rude or not, it did the job. Within days Anders and the other healers reported far fewer cases of disease.

And, as it turned out, just in time.

I was heading to the mess tent when a commotion broke out across the camp. I looked over to see a horse riding at full speed, nearly taking out several tents in the process. "Maggie!" the rider screamed as she jumped from the saddle, barely waiting for the horse to stop. Stumbling once, she regained her footing quickly and ran over. "Cousin!"

I raced over to meet her halfway. "Maker, Catherine, what is it?"

"They're almost here," she said.

"How long?"

"Nightfall," she said.

"And is everything in place?"

Catherine nodded. "Leliana is there. I ran into Zevran first, he's already started his part. We're ready as we'll ever be."

I nodded.

It didn't take long for everyone to get into place. This was what we had all been waiting for, after all.

I made one final stop. Standing in our tiny makeshift Chantry, I paused before one of the statues of Andraste. I could hear the soft voices of prayer all around me.

Dropping to my knees, I stared up at her calm face.

_Tell me if I'm wrong,_ I thought. _Give me a sign. _I had only known victory, time and again. Part of me seems to have decided, on some level that it meant the Maker favored me. Or was, at the very least, indifferent to my actions. It was vanity, of course. Sometimes vanity had truth, though. My life hadn't been easy, but by any reasonable measure I should have been dead several dozen times over. There had to be a reason for that.

But part of me always worried I was wrong.

_"Maker forgive me_,"I whispered. _"I only wanted to make things better."_ Pressing my forehead to the cool stones of her feet, I sighed. _Forgive all my sins, of action and inaction. Give us victory. And if I've been wrong… please, don't let Ferelden suffer for my crimes._

Anders put a hand on my shoulder. "Maggie," he whispered. "We have to go."

I stood up, nodding.

I had already said goodbye to Alistair. It wouldn't do for the crowd to see me crying and hugging the king. There was nothing left to do but head to the front lines.

"If it ends quickly, we win," I said to the assembled captains. "Slowly… our odds aren't so good. So let's work fast." They chuckled before speaking in agreement.

We were in a line, blocking the exit of the pass. Mages lined the cliffs above us. I couldn't see anything, but I was starting to hear them.

They filed into the pass, heading towards us at a calm pace, no doubt expecting to rip through our lines.

Of course, they didn't know our secret. The secret weapon my army hadn't even learned until scant hours ago.

When the borders closed I had men trapped in Orlais. Wardens, and Alistair's troops. It wasn't difficult to get a message to them via Leliana. I hadn't even been thinking of Ferelden at the time, to be honest. I had been thinking of the Wardens.

"Make a way," I ordered them. "If the surface is closed, we have to find a new route."

The pass was, of course, above the Deep Roads… and no one in Thedas knew the Deep Roads like the Wardens. No one in Thedas knew the Deep Roads like _my _Wardens. Not even the shaperite in Orzammar had mapped out the twists and turns created by collapsing caverns and tunneling darkspawn in the centuries since abandonment. Those were known only to us.

We had the most accurate maps in Thedas, even among the order others would send envoys simply to copy what we had done.

Since they had been trapped in Orlais when the borders were closed, that was exactly where my Wardens had been. Along with the Ferelden troops they spent weeks and then months clearing the roads, ensuring their stability, mapping out routes. They built barriers and dug new passages. They cast warding spells and slaughtered the darkspawn.

They had created one of the safest sections of the deep outside Orzammar. Created it just so the Wardens could enter Orlais should the borders remain closed.

But why not use them for something else in the meantime?

Catherine and Leliana had been reporting of their progress, and we were ready. When the Templars looked through the pass, they looked at only a portion of the army. While the Chantry marched east, into the pass, a third of my men marched West, deep underground. As the last of the Chantry army filed into the pass, the troops of Ferelden climbed back into the light and marched up right behind them.

There would be no escape.


	109. Always late to the party

"How far are the Wardens?" I asked Catherine.

"Two days, at least," she said. I sighed, it would have been nice to have the extra blades.

"Go back," I told her. Stay with the king."

She glared at me. "What?"

"You heard me," I said. "Maker save us, if we fail he'll need someone to help protect him. Someone who can get him to Denerim _fast_. Someone I can trust."

Her eyes widened. "General," she said, saluting me. "I won't fail."

"I feel like I could jump from my skin," Anders whispered. "The waiting is killing me. Is it always this bad?"

I looked over at him, his face looked nervous but his eyes revealed how excited he was. "I have no idea," I admitted. "I always seem to get to the battle after it started without me."

"Poor Maggie, always late to the party," he said, the edges of his mouth turning up slightly. "How long now?"

"Not much longer," I said. I could see the Templars in the distance, their torches glinting off their armor. They were silver dots on the horizon.

Reaching over, Anders took my hand. "It was worth it," he said after a moment.

"What was?"

"Everything."

I turned, standing on my toes to kiss him. "It was," I agreed. "Not over yet, though."

"No," he agreed. "But it still needed saying."

The templars were moving faster now. They must have realized the vulnerable position they were in, being fenced in on two sides by the mountains. I could see the priests walking across our front lines, censers swinging in their hands. I could understand a little as she came closer. "_A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields," _The Grand Cleric intoned. I could see Revered Mother Moira of Amaranthine City and several other priests who had been pleased with the reforms walking behind her, offering blessings on kneeling soldiers. "G_ladly proclaiming: Those who had been slaves were now free." _The Grand Cleric had apparently taken it upon herself to reinstate the Canticle of Shartan. I wasn't opposed to the idea, since it was stricken from the Chant for political reasons, not theological. Still, I was surprised she would do that. I looked at Anders to see if he had noticed and he gestured me closer.

"You know what they're call her now?" Anders whispered.

"Grand Cleric?" I asked.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "The Grey Divine. Not to her _face_, of course… but I've heard a few say it."

"Seems apt," I said after a moment of shock. She was nearing us, though, and we both fell silent, dropping to our knees.

Pausing, she put a hand on my head. "_Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."_

"Thank you," I replied before standing up. "You'd best get back to camp quickly," I warned her. "We don't have much time."

"How long?"

"Any moment," I said. "If I don't get the signal soon I'll have no choice but to attack early- they're getting too close."

Nodding, she raised her hand, gesturing to the priests who had been working their way through the lines. Finishing quickly, the women all walked back to camp in single fine, singing the Canticle of Trials as they went, two of our Templars on their heels joining them in song.

"Come on," I mumbled. We were cutting it too close, but the signal was so we would know our men were clear of the tunnel. If the mages went into action too soon there was a risk of trapping, or worse, crushing them underground.

"General," someone said, sounding nervous. I held a hand up.

"Hold!" I shouted. "I want archers only!"

The archers were less than effective against the templars in heavy plate.

Watching the horizon, I wanted to laugh, or cry. Here I was, back where I started… but this time I was the impatient general waiting for a late signal. I silently prayed that our men hadn't been ambushed by darkspawn as Alistair and I were all those years ago.

The first templars were starting to clear the pass. I screamed for everyone to hold their ground. I was readying a fire spell, planning to signal our mages on the top of the pass myself, since something had happened to the men underground.

"Forgive me," I said more to myself than anyone else, hoping no one would be caught underground. Waving my sword in the air, I screamed "charge!" as loud as I could. Running forward, I could already see snow tumbling down into the pass, setting off enormous white clouds.

Chaos had broken out among the Chantry ranks. The men in the center were pressing forward, and the men at the front were pressing back as we ran at them. A moment later I saw another fireball rise, this time from the Orlesian side of the boarder, and all but collapsed in relief. It was late, but at least I knew we hadn't killed our own people by setting off the avalanche.

The Templars had decided to take their chances with us over the avalanche. Some were trying to outrun the snow, even going so far as to trample anyone that fell. "Maker's breath," Anders gasped, looking out over the commotion.

We cast storms around their group. All were quickly dispelled, but each one managed to thin their numbers by a few. As they were on us I could do nothing but hope none would risk standing still long enough to conjure a proper smite. It wasn't a fast process, and anyone who attempted it was equally likely to be run through before it could be done.

Blocking a sword with my daggers, I kicked out, throwing a templar off balance. He pressed back against me, shoving my arms towards my chest as I tried to hold back his blade. "_Putain,"_ he hissed, almost spitting on me.

I didn't need to be fluent in Orlesian to guess what _that_ meant.

Taking a risk, I eased my press on the daggers, giving up a few more inches so I could hold one hand free. The blades were now pressed sideways against my armor, my left hand pinned into place.

My right hand was gesturing quickly, I raised it at the last moment. "Bye bye!" I said, grinning as I finished the spell and sending the templar flying back from me, along with everyone else who had been within two feet of us. From then, it took only a moment to freeze the man on the ground. Another soldier took advantage of the moment, shattering him immediately.

I couldn't afford to look for Anders or anyone else. Another two men were at me within seconds. One fell to my daggers, the second to a fire spell… but not before he managed to slice my face open.

Wincing, I put my hand up. It felt worse than it was, apparently, since everything was still in place… just cut and bleeding. From how it felt I was worried I'd find myself with half a nose.

Shaking off the brief urge to take advantage of that blood, I reminded myself that these weren't my Wardens at my side; the Ferelden army didn't share our 'any means necessary' beliefs.

We fought for what felt like hours, maybe days. I'd narrowly escaped at least two smites that I saw myself, killing the templars with my blades as they raised their hands in that distinctive gesture. Another had caught me on the very edge of the area, leaving me more exhausted but, thankfully, not powerless.

Potion after potion kept me moving, and I realized with a great deal of annoyance that many of the men fighting us were, quite literally, half my age.

That was about when I started chucking the empty glass lyrium bottles at them, too.

Limping and exhausted, I realized no one had stepped up to fight me when my last opponent fell. Glancing around for a new target, I saw many of the troops doing the same. Men had begun returning from the other side of the pass, using the same tunnels, and the remaining Templars were so far outnumbered that it would have been difficult to even reach one of them. Even still, I moved through the field, looking for any still fighting and taking advantage of their distraction. Many found themselves surprised to be stabbed in the back or frozen solid.

I saw a man in remarkably ornate templar armor facing down several mages, a massive red and gold plume on his helm. Moving slowly, most of the mages were holding blades in shaking hands, their circle robes hanging in bloody tatters. Trying to push my own exhaustion aside, I drank my last potion and reached into the fade, drawing back lighting.

The smited mages collapsed against each other with relief as the man turned his attention to me.

"General," he said in a heavy accent.

"Knight Commander," I replied, matching his circling posture.

He struck out finally with a massive greatsword, moving much faster than I thought possible in armor that heavy. I managed to duck and roll, shooting off a quick frost spell as I dodged his blade. He made a sound of rage and tried to bring his blade down on me. I jumped to my feet, hopping just out of range as I shot lighting. Again and again I hit him with spells, most of which he shook off like they were nothing more than water, as he swung at me with that massive blade. I took advantage of my smaller size and better reflexes to dodge his blows, but he was fast enough that I couldn't jump in close enough to get him with my own daggers.

"Why continue this," he said after he had managed to land one blow. I had dodged the worst of it, but was fairly sure my collarbone and shoulder were broken. My entire right side felt dipped in pain and my arm hung uselessly, lower than it should have been. "You know the Maker will never tolerate it. If I don't strike you down now, someone else will soon."

He clearly thought I was done for. I decided to play into his assumption, raising my good arm to the broken shoulder protectively and whimpering. Considering that the world was beginning to swim around me it didn't require much acting.

I looked him over carefully.

_Armor joined at the elbow and shoulder, a vulnerable spot. The usual templar skirt, another weakness, this time to fire. Open faced helm, and no neck guard. No neck guard. Yes, there._

He raised his hand, and I shrank back, the perfect terrified mage. I waited until he was too far into the smite to stop and lunged.

Throwing my full weight against his chest, the man shouted in surprise and confusion as he stumbled backwards. I tried to shake off the wave of energy that slammed into me full force. "Tell me something," I said, voice already slurring in exhaustion. I had one knee on each of his arms the tip of my dagger pressed into his bare neck. Crazily, I wondered if this was the first time he ever had a woman on top of him and started giggling. I didn't have much time, and fought to get my exhaustion, pain, and giddiness under control. "If the Maker hates me… why does He keep letting _me_ win?"

The Templar had no response, only narrowing his eyes at me with loathing as he struggled to throw me off.

"That's what I figured," I muttered, laying my weight into my dagger and not stopping until the hilt was flush with his skin.

That's where I was found, although I don't know how much later it was. Half asleep, half unconscious, hand still pressed against my dagger.

"She's over here!" someone shouted over the sound of a barking dog. I felt hands grab me under the arms and lift me to my feet and couldn't stop myself from screaming in agony. First Enchanter Torrin's face swam in and out of focus in front of me. "Shoulder?" he asked. I nodded and sighed with relief as healing magic began to knit me back together. As clarity returned to the world I gasped in horror, seeing the field of bodies around me. _So many,_ I thought in horror. I could hear the injured screaming in pain, lying among the dead as they waited for someone to help them. It wasn't lost on me that I didn't see Anders among the healers walking the field. I was afraid to ask.

"Lyrium?" I asked him, afraid to say anything else. He handed me several large bottles.

"Anders said you would need them," Torrin confided, and I almost fainted in relief. "He just knew we'd find you out here."

"He's…?"

"Back at the main camp, working on the injured with the other Spirit Healers. Us creation school oafs are out here looking for survivors." As I chugged one potion after another I felt more like myself, and listened to the deadpan First Enchanter tell me how Anders had struggled not to come out hunting for me himself, but was adamant that I would be fine. "I don't know how, but I think your _dog_ talked him out of it." I could only laugh, reaching down to rub Isolde's head. It was no surprise my mabari was able to find me in a field full of bodies.

Torrin gently took hold of my chin after healing several other injuries. "Maker, stand still," he said, healing the cut across my face. I could tell he wasn't satisfied with the job. "No wonder you go everywhere with your own personal Spirit Healer," he said, "if this is what you do to yourself in battle."

"I'm just amazed my head's still on my shoulders!" I said, laughing slightly now that I wasn't numb with fear. Bending over, I retrieved my dagger, holding the body down with a foot to release it, and took the man's massive sword. It would be something impressive I could give to Alistair as a token of our victory. After a moment I reached back down and grabbed his ornate helmet, popping it on my head with a laugh. "I'd better get back to camp," I said.

Torrin nodded. "General!" he called as I started hiking away, joining the throng walking up the hill. I turned back and he saluted. "Thank you." Not knowing what to say, I only returned the gesture.

Camp was chaos, but the relief in the air could be felt. Even the injured were smiling as healers worked on them. Alistair walked between their cots, talking to people, shaking hands, even sitting briefly to listen to them, a hand on their shoulder and sympathy on his face.

People had been following me since I returned, cheering and shouting in my wake. I could even see Wynne there, her face tight with concentration as magic poured from her hands into an injured knight. Finished, she looked up and nodded in my direction before moving on to another patient, saying something to a young page not far from her.

Entering the massive tent, I saw the page race over to Anders, who was at my side seconds later. "I knew you were alive," he whispered after kissing me, to the hoots and hollers of the soldiers around us.

"How?"

He shrugged. "Because I was still breathing." I smiled and Anders reached over, knocking on my head. "Where _did _you get that?"

"Off the dead Knight Commander," I said. "Now I have one last thing to do." Anders nodded, falling into step behind me. Several of the captains had rushed over when they heard the chaos and did likewise.

Alistair looked up, catching sight of our group. Relief washed across his face and he began walking over. "General," he called, keeping up the performance for everyone around us. "Anything to report?"

Dropping to my knee, I took the helmet off and set it on the ground. Anders did a double take, seeing the new scar snaking its way across my nose and cheek. Holding the sword up in offering with both hands I grinned, probably revealing how lyrium addled I was in the process to anyone who knew what to look for. Alistair looked like he wanted to laugh, but kept his façade. We had talked about this weeks ago, over a bottle… well, _several _bottles of wine. "_If we win,"_ he had said,_ "we'd better make it look good. You know, all serious. Like we know what we're doing. That's the sort of moment people remember for centuries."_

"Your Majesty," I said, speaking as loud as I could without actually shouting. "We are victorious!"

Taking the sword from me, Alistair held it in the air for everyone to see. As the camp cheered I finally let myself sag with exhaustion. Only Anders, who was holding on to my waist like he thought someone would snatch me away, kept me upright.

* * *

_So I guess there was some football game or something today? I spent the afternoon writing this and watching Terry Jones' series on the Crusades, and consider it time well spent. Although I probably should have studied for the GRE...  
Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers!  
_


End file.
